Showing posts with label Ranier Maria Rilke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ranier Maria Rilke. Show all posts
Saturday, November 7, 2015
Quiet friend who has come so far, by RM Rilke
Adagio and Fugue in C Minor, K. 546: I. Adagio by WA Mozart
with Herbert von Karajan & Berliner Philharmoniker
Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,
what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.
In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.
And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent Earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.
from Part Two, Sonnet XXIX
poem from Joanna Macy's website
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Go to the limits of your longing, by Rainer Maria Rilke
Thomas Tallis - If Ye Love Me
God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
from Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God
translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy
Saturday, October 19, 2013
I love the dark hours, by Ranier Maria Rilke
Franz Schubert - "An den Mond", op. 57 No.3, D 193
with Rita Streich, voice and Erik Werba, piano
I love the dark hours of my being.
My mind deepens into them.
There I can find, as in old letters,
the days of my life, already lived,
and held like a legend, and understood.
Then the knowing comes: I can open
to another life that's wide and timeless.
So I am sometimes like a tree
rustling over a gravesite
and making real the dream
of the one its living roots embrace:
a dream once lost
among sorrows and songs.
from Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God
translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
