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r_m_rilke @ 2005-06-09T03:14:00

* * *

(Translated by Flying)

Night Constellation: I see them over himself;
over being my circle amid emptiness,
or over life, over the total of our fate, -
from light to light stretching bridges.
Whose there steps? Who Waters is as on the land,
his way spryamlyaya like bypassing the creek?
who, like a pawn, hastily took my soul
and trumpeting the victory of his own?

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r_m_rilke @ 2005-05-05T16:42:00

Evening

(Translation E. Witkowski)

Apparel evening slowly replaced,
lying on the branch garden fringed;
you look like the worlds in the sky is melting -
one ascended, the other falls;

and you leave on the ground familiar,
ever swore not to anyone:
or dusk umolknuvshego home,
no starlight, rising up into the darkness, -

and there is no way for you to another,
than realized, and to delimit,
in a large and close of life становиться
попеременно камнем и звездой.

evening

The evening gradually change clothes,
to it by a row of old trees;
you watch: and you get divorced two countries
a world traveling, and one that falls;

and allow you to either one,
not quite as dark as the darkened houses, not quite
to eternity
as what becomes a star each night and rises -

und lassen dir (unsäglich zu entwirrn)
dein Leben bang und riesenhaft und reifend,
so daß es, bald begrenzt und bald begreifend,
abwechselnd Stein in dir wird und Gestirn.

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r_m_rilke @ 2005-04-25T15:08:00

Walk

(Translation Evg.Borisova)

Already my mind is wandering among the hills,
ahead of my apathetic step.
So we embrace what we are
unable to grasp - the sky, the distance - and so

they are doing from ourselves, but above,
we look capable of ourselves.
And we навстречу веют знаки, мы же
за летний ветер принимаем их.

walk

is already my view on the hill, the sunny,
the way that I started little progress.
This is how and what we could not grasp,
full appearance from afar -

and transforms us, even if not reach wirs,
in that which we are hardly sensing;
blows a sign , reciprocating our signs ... But we
spüren nur den Gegenwind.

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r_m_rilke @ 2005-04-13T18:30:00

Getting love

(Translation Evg.Borisova)

On our first move, our
smile. The smell of lime trees breathe, listen
silence of the park, and in each other's eyes
look, and freeze in admiration,
and smile ...

In the smile of the game came alive
zaychonka that frolicked in the meadow,
while we watched. It was a childhood
smile. And then she was given a movement
swan wings,
in the silent sky, and a silent pond
hovering like a two-open, warm
palms in the evening. And carefully the park
our smile lifted the wrong hands
and suffered - where through the transparent,
quivering air first star twinkled
tomorrow.

Liebesanfang

O Lächeln, erstes Lächeln, our smile.
How was that thing: breathing fragrances of the Linden Park
hear silence - suddenly surprised upward gaze into each other and to
approach to the smile.

was in that smile
memory to a rabbit that just because over there
played in the lawn, this was the childhood
of smiles. Ernster before him the swan was entered
movement that we saw later shared
the pond into two halves
silent evening. - And the top edges
against the pure, free, no future, already sky
return that smile
had drawn edges towards the future in the face
delighted.

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r_m_rilke @ 2005-04-04T18:41:00

Song blind

(Translation E. Witkowski)

Blindness - inside, else - outside;
this curse, discord in me,
increasingly pinching.
Arm stretched out, as in a dream,
invisible hand of an unseen wife,
noisy delirium in the void.

Forward and backward, and from all sides
carried by the sound of your movements,
but you'd be wrong: only I have the
property of goodness and spirit.
In my endless moaning sounds,
and I do not know where he is -
from the heart or abdomen.

you hear? In the range of very different
sung Your cantata.
night away - and the light of day
breaks into your chamber.
your face are interconnected,
anything you're not to blame.

Das Lied des Blinden

Ich bin blind, ihr draußen, das ist ein Fluch,
ein Widerwillen, a contradiction
something Heavy every day.
I put my hand on the woman's arm,
my hand on her gray gray gray,
and she leads me through empty air.

you at ease and engaged and makes you a different sound than
stone by stone,
but you are mistaken: I live alone and suffer
and noise.
in me is an endless scream
and I do not know, cry me
my heart or my intestines.

you recognize the songs? Ye sanget not
not quite in this emphasis.
you comes every morning the sunlight warm
open in the flat.
And you have a sense of face to face and
verleitet zur Schonung.

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r_m_rilke @ 2005-02-17T10:25:00

night sky and falling stars

(Translated T. Silman)

night sky a dull silvery,
all its excessive printing.
We - well, we had can not merge, -
and too close to know about him.

Star is down .. To her hurry to your eye, -
guessing, asking in these moments! ..
What happens, what не быть на свете?
И кто виновен? Кто не виноват? ..

night sky and star case

The sky, tall, full of splendid behavior
in pantry, an abundance of world.
And we, too distant for the design,
placed too close to turn away.
As a star falls! And our request to him, looking up bewildered
connected urgently
What is begun, and what is verflossen?
Was ist verschuldet? Und was ist verziehn?

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r_m_rilke @ 2005-02-01T01:50:00

* * *

(Translation Evg.Borisova)

And the pain - when the deeper part of the flesh
steel plow blade in the midday summer -
not good? And who that last one,
who are able to overcome our pain?

Where to measure suffering? When,
who brought a smile to the victim?
Or, perhaps more accessible bliss
зарубцевавшаяся нагота?

* * *

Is pain as soon as a new layer
extends the ploughshare, which certainly used,
pain is not good? And which is the last
interrupts us all in pain? How much is

aufzuleiden. When time
was to make the other, lighter feeling?
And yet, I recognize, better than most once
resurrection, salvation.

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r_m_rilke @ 2005-01-24T14:16:00

Забавно, среди известных my poems of Rilke, could not find one where it was least of winter. So today we have a guest

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beginning of winter

Winter cold and a clear top
Today my door three times tapped.
I went into the field. Sharp as metal,
I heart winter air diaper,
But I sighed, straightening his back,
easy to run away from the hill onto the plain,
escaped and started: river scary face
suddenly looked at me and in my heart penetrated.


Zakovyvaya cold nature,
Winter comes and pulls his hands into the water.
River shakes and feeling the hour of death,
already open can not languid eyes,
And all her helpless body
Suddenly scared lengthened and numb
And, barely moving the lead wave,
now rests and beats his head.

I watched as the river was dying,
Not a day or two, but at this moment,
When she moaned in pain,
В ее сознанье, кажется, проник.
В печальный час, когда исчезла сила,
Когда вокруг не стало никого,
Природа в речке нам изобразила
Скользящий мир сознанья her.

and outgoing awe thinking
I think I read in an obscure her languor.
and the expression characteristics of the waves dying
Suddenly caught. And if you're familiar with,
As watching people on the day of his death,
you think of the river you'll understand. Even before the mid
Fatal blackened water
scales twitched ice.

And I stood at the stone orbit,
He caught her last glimpse of the day.
Huge attentive birds
watched from the tree right at me.
And I left. And the night had fallen.
whirling wind, falling into the pipe,
and the river is likely to barely beat her,
hardens into a stone coffin.

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r_m_rilke @ 2005-01-18T16:04:00

« about irony . Do not let it take over you, especially in the tedious minutes. At the same creative aim to use it as another means of understanding life. In the clean hands and clean it, and it should not be ashamed, and if you do it too close to you and you fear that excessive closeness, then refer to the great and serious, to whom she becomes petty and impotent. Look for depth objects: there will never penetrate the irony - and if in this way you will come to a very great milestone, find out if the birth is the irony of your deep inner needs. Under the influence of serious subjects she or does no longer (if it is random for you), or (if this is indeed an innate your property) it consolidated and will be a powerful tool and will stand next to the other means by which you must create your art. »