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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.