By Rainer Maria Rilke
The best paintings via one of many maximum poets of the twentieth century.
In the interpretation via JB Leishman and Stephen Spender.
One of the literary masterpieces of the century, this translation is now offered with facing-page German.
We have a fabulous, virtually mythical, picture of the conditions during which the composition of this nice poem started. Rilke was once staying at a fortress (Duino) at the sea close to Trieste. One morning he walked out at the battlements and climbed right down to the place the rocks dropped sharply to the ocean. From out of the wind, which used to be blowing with nice strength, Rilke appeared to listen a voice: Wer, wenn ich schriee, horte mich denn aus der Engel Ordnungen? (If I cried out, who could pay attention me up there, one of the angelic orders?). He wrote those phrases, the outlet of the 1st Duino Elegy, in his computer, then went within to proceed what used to be to be his significant paintings and one of many literary masterpieces of the century.
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Additional info for Duino Elegies
For our heart transcends us just as it did those others. And we can no longer gaze after it into figures that soothe it, or godlike bodies, wherein it achieves a grander restraint. 33 >o 70 Vie Vritte Elecjie in e s ist, die Geliebte zu singen. Ein anderes, wehe, E jenen verborgenen schuldigen FluB-Gott des Bluts. Den sie von weitem erkennt, ihren Jiingling, was weiB er selbst von dem Herren der Lust, der aus dem Einsamen oft, ehe das Madchen noch linderte, oft auch als ware sie nicht, ach, von welchem Unkenntlichen triefend, das Gotthaupt aufhob, aufrufend die Nacht zu unendlichem Aufruhr.
We, though, while we’re intent upon one thing, can feel the cost and conquest of another. Hostility’s our first response. Aren’t lovers for ever reaching verges in each other,— lovers, that looked for spaces, hunting, home? Then, for the sudden sketchwork of a moment, a ground of contrast’s painfully prepared, to make us see it. For they’re very clear with us, we that don’t know our feeling’s shape, but only that which forms it from outside. Who’s not sat tense before his own heart’s curtain? Up it would go: the scenery was parting.
Who’ll place it within its constellation, with the measure of distance in its hand? Minds of murderers are easily divined. But this, though: death, the whole of death,—even before life’s begun, to hold it all so gendy, and be good: this is beyond description! 45 60 70 80 D/e Junfte Slegie Frau Hertha Koenig zugeeignet aber s i n d sie, sag mir, die Fahrenden, diese ein wenig Fluchtigern noch als wir selbst, die dringend von friih an wringt ein wem—wem zuliebe niemals zufriedener Wille? Sondern er wringt sie, biegt sie, schlingt sie und schwingt sie, wirft sie und fangt sie zuriick; wie aus geolter, glatterer Luft kommen sie nieder auf dem verzehrten, von ihrem ewigen Auf sprung diinneren Teppich, diesem verlorenen Teppich im Weltall.