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Poets & Poems

Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)

(All translations by Stephen Mitchell)

The Panther

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars, and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tense, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.

Silent Friend of Many Distances
from Sonnets to Orpheus

Silent friend of many distances, feel
how your breath enlarges all of space.
Let your presence ring out like a bell
into the night. What feeds upon your face

grows mighty from the nourishment thus offered.
Move through transformation, out and in.
What is the deepest loss that you have suffered?
If drinking is bitter, change yourself to wine.

In this immeasurable darkness, be the power
that rounds your senses in their magic ring,
the sense of their mysterious encounter.

And if the earthly no longer knows your name,
whisper to the silent earth: I'm flowing.
To the flashing water say: I am.

Black Cat

A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place 
your sight can knock on, echoing; but here 
within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze 
will be absorbed and utterly disappear: 

just as a raving madman, when nothing else 
can ease him, charges into his dark night 
howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels 
the rage being taken in and pacified. 

She seems to hide all looks that have ever fallen 
into her, so that, like an audience, 
she can look them over, menacing and sullen, 
and curl to sleep with them. But all at once 

as if awakened, she turns her face to yours; 
and with a shock, you see yourself, tiny, 
inside the golden amber of her eyeballs 
suspended, like a prehistoric fly.

I Am, O Anxious One

I am, O Anxious One. Don't you hear my voice
surging forth with all my earthly feelings?
They yearn so high, that they have sprouted wings
and whitely fly in circles round your face.
My soul, dressed in silence, rises up
and stands alone before you: can't you see?
don't you know that my prayer is growing ripe
upon your vision as upon a tree?
If you are the dreamer, I am what you dream.
But when you want to wake, I am your wish,
and I grow strong with all magnificence
and turn myself into a star's vast silence
above the strange and distant city, Time.

Adrienne Rich (1929- )

Orion

Far back when I went zig-zagging 
through tamarack pastures 
you were my genius, you 
my cast-iron Viking, my helmed 
lion-heart king in prison. 
Years later now you're young

my fierce half-brother, staring 
down from that simplified west 
your breast open, your belt dragged down 
by an oldfashioned thing, a sword 
the last bravado you won't give over 
though it weighs you down as you stride

and the stars in it are dim 
and maybe have stopped burning. 
But you burn, and I know it; 
as I throw back my head to take you in 
and old transfusion happens again: 
divine astronomy is nothing to it.

Indoors I bruise and blunder 
break faith, leave ill enough 
alone, a dead child born in the dark. 
Night cracks up over the chimney, 
pieces of time, frozen geodes 
come showering down in the grate.

A man reaches behind my eyes 
and finds them empty 
a woman's head turns away 
from my head in the mirror 
children are dying my death 
and eating crumbs of my life.

Pity is not your forte. 
Calmly you ache up there 
pinned aloft in your crow's nest, 
my speechless pirate! 
You take it all for granted 
and when I look you back

it's with a starlike eye 
shooting its cold and egotistical spear 
where it can do least damage. 
Breath deep! No hurt, no pardon 
out here in the cold with you 
you with your back to the wall.