Water Lily

 By Rainer Maria Rilke

Water Lily

My whole life is mine, but whoever says so

will deprive me, for it is infinite.

The ripple of water, the shade of the sky

are mine; it is still the same, my life.

No desire opens me: I am full,

I never close myself with refusal-

in the rythm of my daily soul

I do not desire-I am moved;

by being moved I exert my empire,

making the dreams of night real:

into my body at the bottom of the water

I attract the beyonds of mirrors...

Translated by A. Poulin 

* * *

The Neighbor

Strange violin, why do you follow me?

In how many foreign cities did you

speak of your lonely nights and those of mine.

Are you being played by hundreds? Or by one?

Do in all great cities men exist

who tormented and in deep despair

would have sought the river but for you?

And why does your playing always reach me?

Why is it that I am always neighbor

to those lost ones who are forced to sing

and to say: Life is infinitely heavier

than the heaviness of all things.

Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming 

* * *

Autumn Day 

Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.

Lay your shadow on the sundials

and let loose the wind in the fields.

Bid the last fruits to be full;

give them another two more southerly days,

press them to ripeness, and chase

the last sweetness into the heavy wine. 

Whoever has no house now will not build one 

anymore.

Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long 

time,

will stay up, read, write long letters,

and wander the avenues, up and down,

restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.