Car poems

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The Last Evening

© Rainer Maria Rilke

And night and distant rumbling; now the army's
carrier-train was moving out, to war.
He looked up from the harpsichord, and as
he went on playing, he looked across at her

Losing too is still ours; and even forgetting
still has a shape in the kindgdom of transformation.
When something's let go of, it circles; and though we are
rarely the center
of the circle, it draws around us its unbroken, marvelous
curve.

The Voices

© Rainer Maria Rilke

The rich and fortunate do well to keep silent,
for no one cares to know who and what they are.
But those in need must reveal themselves,
must say: I am blind,

Song

© Rainer Maria Rilke

You, whom I do not tell that all night long
I lie weeping,
whose very being makes me feel wanting
like a cradle.

Child In Red

© Rainer Maria Rilke

Sometimes she walks through the village in her
little red dress
all absorbed in restraining herself,
and yet, despite herself, she seems to move
according to the rhythm of her life to come.

As Once The Winged Energy Of Delight

© Rainer Maria Rilke

As once the winged energy of delight
carried you over childhood's dark abysses,
now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges.

The Wait

© Rainer Maria Rilke

It is life in slow motion,
it's the heart in reverse,
it's a hope-and-a-half:
too much and too little at once.

The Grown-Up

© Rainer Maria Rilke

All this stood upon her and was the world
and stood upon her with all its fear and grace
as trees stand, growing straight up, imageless
yet wholly image, like the Ark of God,
and solemn, as if imposed upon a race.

The Owl And The Sparrow

© John Trumbull

The grave Owl heard the weighty cause,
And humm'd and hah'd at every pause;
Then fix'd his looks in sapient plan,
Stretch'd forth one foot, and thus began.