Night (This Night, Agitated By The Growing Storm)

This night, agitated by the growing storm,
how it has suddenly expanded its dimensions--,
that ordinarily would have gone unnoticed,
like a cloth folded, and hidden in the folds of time.

Where the stars give resistance it does not stop there,
neither does it begin within the forest's depths,
nor show upon the surface of my face
nor with your appearance.

The lamps keep swaying, fully unaware:
is our light lying?
Is night the only reality
that has endured through thousands of years?

Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Comments (15)

Reading this poem always justifies my wildest dreams... those realized and those shattered or delayed. and inspires me to shoot for the moon, once again. Thank you, Emily Dickinson.......
Wow! Wow! What a fine poetry! this, especially the opening line ★
Outstanding poem..........truly inspiring.......
I dwell in possibility; My occupation is this. The spreading of my narrow hands to gather paradise. I love this poem. The possibilities of life are endless, no matter the size of my hand, my abilities, or my gifts. God's grace enables me to gather paradise. Wow!
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