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At The Brink Of Night
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926 / Prague / Czech Republic)

At The Brink Of Night

Poem By Rainer Maria Rilke

My room and this distance,
awake upon the darkening land,
are one. I am a string
stretched across deep
surging resonance.

Things are violin bodies
full of murmuring darkness,
where women's weeping dreams,
where the rancor of whole generations
stirs in its sleep . . .
I should release
my silver vibrations: then
everything below me will live,
and whatever strays into things
will seek the light
that falls without end from my dancing tone
into the old abysses
around which heaven swells
through narrow
imploring
rifts.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 5

Comments (5)

Es sind Geigenkörper voller murmelnder Dunkelheit, in denen weibliche Träume weinen, in denen sich der Grauen der ganzen Generationen im Schlaf rührt..
A beautiful poem but very abstract.
He has the gift of words- -he glories in them, he gifts them to us, such magnificence.
This poem was translated by James Burnham. See http: //blackcatpoems.com/r/rainer_maria_rilke.html for additional translations.
As desegno does in painting, idea shows itself the most important ingredient of great poetry. This idea's a good one.


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