Rainer Maria Rilke
Rainer Maria Rilke
René Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke (German pronunciation: [ˈʁaɪnɐ maˈʁiːa ˈʁɪlkə]), better known as Rainer Maria Rilke, was a Bohemian-Austrian poet. He is considered one of the most significant poets in the German language. His haunting images focus on the difficulty of communion with the ineffable in an age of disbelief, solitude, and pro ...
How can I keep my soul in me, so that
it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise
it high enough, past you, to other things?
I would like to shelter it, among remote
...
My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has inner light, even from a distance-
...
A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place
your sight can knock on, echoing; but here
within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze
will be absorbed and utterly disappear:
...
His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.
...
Suddenly, from all the green around you,
something-you don't know what-has disappeared;
you feel it creeping closer to the window,
in total silence. From the nearby wood
...
He reproduced himself with so much humble objectivity, with the unquestioning, matter of fact interest of a dog who sees himself in a mirror and thinks: there's another dog.
The great renewal of the world will perhaps consist in this, that man and maid, freed of all false feelings and reluctances, will seek each other not as opposites, but as brother and sister, as neighbors, and will come together as human beings.
Not since Moses has anyone seen a mountain so greatly.
Just as the creative artist is not allowed to choose, neither is he permitted to turn his back on anything: a single refusal, and he is cast out of the state of grace and becomes sinful all the way through.
Just as language has no longer anything in common with the thing it names, so the movements of most of the people who live in cities have lost their connexion with the earth; they hang, as it were, in the air, hover in all directions, and find no place where they can settle.
Comments
Am searching for a poem by Rilke about someone just having died, and being carried gently by hands afraid to drop the dead person, and the person's name and identity are all slipping away..
Learning to " live the questions" comes from a passage in Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet.
Looking for the poem abouit " learn to love the questions...someday you will live into the answers
I'm looking for a poem that includes the wonderful line: and God explodes from his hiding place.
what is the Rilke poem about a couple in love but not totally blended....united but separated at the same time...
What is the Rilke poem about the old men of the sea who have survived manifestations of the feminine, harpies, gorgons, sirens, and now live crippled, defeated and in awe?
Liselotte, I think maybe God speaks to each of us is the one which you seek.
I am searching a poem of Rilke, wehre God spoke to the the soul, befor beeinflusst born
Thank you for having these gorgeous, sometimes indescribable poems here for us. He is trying for things just beyond our reach. What a magnificent heart! ! ! !
I am searching for Rainer Maria Rolke's beautiful poem written about the liquid-filled eyes of the dumb animals at the manger adoring the Christ child.
An underappreciated artist of consummate skill. His Sonnets to Orpheus are sublime.
The Song of the Dwarf Maybe my soul is straight and good, but she's got to lug my heart, my blood, which all hurts because it's crooked; its weight sends her staggering. She has no bed, she has no home, she merely hangs on my sharp bones, flapping her terrible wings. And my hands are completely shot, shriveled, worn: here, take a look at how they clammily, clumsily hop like rain-crazed toads. As for all the other stuff, it's all used up and sad and old— why doesn't God haul me out to the muck and let me drop. Is it because of my mug with its frowning mouth? So often I would itch to be luminous and free of fog but nothing would approach except big dogs. And the dogs got zilch. (Rainer Maria Rilke)
I am searching for the poem by M. R. Rilke in which he speaks about pushing thru solid rock.
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8/3/2021 10:04:59 AM # 1.0.0.669
Not crazy about this translation.