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..
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?
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.
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)
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