June 6, 2011

The Apple Orchard (I)

The Forest, by Paul Cézanne

Come now as the sun goes down.
See how evening greens the grass.
Is it not as though we had already gathered it
and saved it up inside us,

so that now, from feelings and memories,
from new hope and old pleasures,
all mixed with inner darkness,
we fling it before us under the trees.

New Poems


  1. "Komm gleich nach dem Sonnenuntergange,
    sieh das Abendgrün des Rasengrunds;
    ist es nicht, als hätten wir es lange
    angesammelt und erspart in uns,

    um es jetzt aus Fühlen und Erinnern,
    neuer Hoffnung, halbvergessnem Freun,
    noch vermischt mit Dunkel aus dem Innern,
    in Gedanken vor uns hinzustreun"

    Another poem referring to his stay at Borgeby in Sweden! :-)

    To my ear, it sounds even better in translation!

    Your blog starts to make me intersted in poetry! It's about time! :-)

    (Cannot comment "normally", had to make it as "anonymous".)


  2. I love Rilke's ability to take in a scene, transform it in his heart, then give it all back with that flinging gesture. Such verbal alchemy allows aesthete and creator to become psalmists of God. - Brendan

  3. As the sun goes down memories of times past mingle with the events of the day. I ponder the meaning of it all. The freshness of the forest.

  4. Yes, 'verbal alchemy', as Brendan says - and spiritual alchemy, seamlessly interwoven. The scene - the sun, the grass - is new and fresh, it's nectar has not already been transformed by us in the inner hive. But, receiving the shock of this pristine newness, we can now do this - seeing it, feeling it, remembering it, mixing it with our own creative 'inner darkness'. And can release it back into the world, transfigured, as poetry - or the equivalent. Wonderful. This way of seeing, living and being in the world is so exciting and rewarding. It's like a juicy secret, hidden from those around us, which we can practice whenever we feel like it.

  5. everything reborn anew eternally. nothing ever used or done. wonderful.



"Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night."

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Go ahead, bloom recklessly!