Sunday, August 29, 2010

The waning of summer

That you have but slumbered here/While these visions did appear.https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqiQL8dD9TXq0mALbHUAprI0BsFO9I2PeFe8CdWA_va8diB2sSJles_c_kTKMujZw0vLSeticdIdZbIR7wQakIeZOTeyhxj8TGBxQrAPhqIDziTq5ooPcGtVvJziRLsaexwJB26YqYcw/s400/tree-bed.jpg
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Mt9HbaVZzy3Vxt__QoNTZbvayQnhgmzCUv601pr09tueAqHLCZrv1gmHU_6G2cq9GqxeQ0j3ToPXq8evRaX54bUUKiDQoCddI2W5yOexcyr15nO8Bx76d_Lx0SPgiWV6GvVcrA4vrxY/s1600/tim-walker-dresses-night-lights2.jpg
Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine. 

Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the
evening,
and wander the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.
Rainer Maria Rilke


A Midsummer Night's Dream, 5. 1 
Rilke translated by Stephen Mitchell, 
"The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke" 
images: bricolage

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