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spenkevich's review
5.0
Looking up from my book, from the close countable lines
into the finished-full night outside:
how in starry measure my packed feelings scatter,
as though a bouquet of wildflowers
were being untied…
One needs only to thumb through any book of Rilke’s poetry for a mere minute to find a line or stanza that will captivate their heart and mind. Considered by many to be the preeminent German language poet, Rainer Maria Rilke (1875 – 1926) has left us with a dazzling collection of poetry and prose that can make anyone believe in the power and glory of language.
Rose, oh pure contradiction, joy
of being No-one's sleep under so many
lids.
-Rilke’s epitaph
I decided to investigate Rilke after his [b:Duino Elegies|53111|Duino Elegies|Rainer Maria Rilke|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388391152l/53111._SY75_.jpg|2089466] were so highly praised and alluded to in Pynchon’s [b:Gravity's Rainbow|415|Gravity's Rainbow|Thomas Pynchon|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1414969925l/415._SY75_.jpg|866393], particularly the eerie 8th Elegy. [a:Ludwig Wittgenstein|7672|Ludwig Wittgenstein|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1615573835p2/7672.jpg] was another to openly admire Rilke in his writings, and the novel [b:Wittgenstein’s Mistress|51506|Wittgenstein's Mistress|David Markson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347696167l/51506._SY75_.jpg|1278359] contained a wealth of facts about the poet. With so many references to him in such a short span of time, how could I not own the complete collection of his poetry? After spending the summer reading through the great Wittgenstein investigating the deficiencies of language, Rilke illuminates the potency and remarkable versatility of language.
Rilke explores the human heart and extracts our emotions into perfectly crafted imagery. Roses, angels and the heavens appear throughout the majority of his work, yet each time appearing fresh and fulfilling. A major selling point for this edition is that it includes a vast assortment of his body of work, including the full text of his most famous Duino Elegies and his Sonnets To Orpheus. I can’t speak any more highly of this poet, as nothing I can say will do him the justice his poetry will. I simply recommend this to anyone with even the slightest interest in poetry. Within the lines of his poems, you will find images and metaphor that will take your breath away.
5/5
-My life is not this steeply sloping hour,
in which you see me hurrying.
Much stands behind me; I stand before it like a tree;
I am only one of my many mouths,
and at that, the one that will be still the soonest.
I am the rest between two notes,
which are somehow always in discord
because Death’s note wants to climb over—
but in the dark interval, reconciled,
they stay there trembling.
And the song goes on, beautiful.
Love Song
How should I keep my soul
from touching yours? How shall I
lift it up beyond you to other things?
Ah, I would gladly hide it
in darkness with something lost
in some silent foreign place
that doesn’t tremble when your deeps stir.
Yet whatever touches you and me
blends us together the way a bow’s stroke
draws one voice from two strings.
Across what instrument are we stretched taut?
And what player holds us in his hand?
O sweet song.
Falling Stars
Do you still remember: falling stars,
How they leapt slantwise through the sky
Like horses over suddenly held-out hurdles
Of our wishes – did we have so many? -
For stars, innumerable, leapt everywhere;
Almost every gaze upward became
Wedded to the swift hazard of their play,
And our heart felt like a single thing
Beneath that vast disintegration of their brilliance-
And was whole, as if it would survive them!
-Again and agan, even though we know love’s landscape
and the little churchyard with its lamenting names
and the terrible reticent gorge in which the others
end: again and again the two of us walk out together
under the ancient trees, lay ourselves down again and again
among the flowers, and look up into the sky.
Autumn Day
Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your long shadows on the sundials,
and on the meadows let the winds go free.
Command the last fruits to be full;
give them just two more southern days,
urge them on to completion and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.
Who has no house now, will never build one.
Who is alone now, will long remain so,
will stay awake, read, write long letters
and will wander restlessly up and down
the tree-lines streets, when the leaves are drifting.
The Lovers
See how in their veins all becomes spirit:
into each other they mature and grow.
Like axles, their forms tremblingly orbit,
round which it whirls, bewitching and aglow.
Thirsters, and they receive drink,
watchers, and see: they receive sight.
Let them into one another sink
so as to endure each other outright
Ignorant Before the Heavens of my Life
Ignorant before the heavens of my life,
I stand and gaze in wonder. Oh the vastness
of the stars. Their rising and descent. How still.
As if I didn't exist. Do I have any
share in this? Have I somehow dispensed with
their pure effect? Does my blood's ebb and flow
change with their changes? Let me put aside
every desire, every relationship
except this one, so that my heart grows used to
its farthest spaces. Better that it live
fully aware, in the terror of its stars, than
as if protected, soothed by what is near.
into the finished-full night outside:
how in starry measure my packed feelings scatter,
as though a bouquet of wildflowers
were being untied…
One needs only to thumb through any book of Rilke’s poetry for a mere minute to find a line or stanza that will captivate their heart and mind. Considered by many to be the preeminent German language poet, Rainer Maria Rilke (1875 – 1926) has left us with a dazzling collection of poetry and prose that can make anyone believe in the power and glory of language.
Rose, oh pure contradiction, joy
of being No-one's sleep under so many
lids.
-Rilke’s epitaph
I decided to investigate Rilke after his [b:Duino Elegies|53111|Duino Elegies|Rainer Maria Rilke|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388391152l/53111._SY75_.jpg|2089466] were so highly praised and alluded to in Pynchon’s [b:Gravity's Rainbow|415|Gravity's Rainbow|Thomas Pynchon|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1414969925l/415._SY75_.jpg|866393], particularly the eerie 8th Elegy. [a:Ludwig Wittgenstein|7672|Ludwig Wittgenstein|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1615573835p2/7672.jpg] was another to openly admire Rilke in his writings, and the novel [b:Wittgenstein’s Mistress|51506|Wittgenstein's Mistress|David Markson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347696167l/51506._SY75_.jpg|1278359] contained a wealth of facts about the poet. With so many references to him in such a short span of time, how could I not own the complete collection of his poetry? After spending the summer reading through the great Wittgenstein investigating the deficiencies of language, Rilke illuminates the potency and remarkable versatility of language.
Rilke explores the human heart and extracts our emotions into perfectly crafted imagery. Roses, angels and the heavens appear throughout the majority of his work, yet each time appearing fresh and fulfilling. A major selling point for this edition is that it includes a vast assortment of his body of work, including the full text of his most famous Duino Elegies and his Sonnets To Orpheus. I can’t speak any more highly of this poet, as nothing I can say will do him the justice his poetry will. I simply recommend this to anyone with even the slightest interest in poetry. Within the lines of his poems, you will find images and metaphor that will take your breath away.
5/5
-My life is not this steeply sloping hour,
in which you see me hurrying.
Much stands behind me; I stand before it like a tree;
I am only one of my many mouths,
and at that, the one that will be still the soonest.
I am the rest between two notes,
which are somehow always in discord
because Death’s note wants to climb over—
but in the dark interval, reconciled,
they stay there trembling.
And the song goes on, beautiful.
Love Song
How should I keep my soul
from touching yours? How shall I
lift it up beyond you to other things?
Ah, I would gladly hide it
in darkness with something lost
in some silent foreign place
that doesn’t tremble when your deeps stir.
Yet whatever touches you and me
blends us together the way a bow’s stroke
draws one voice from two strings.
Across what instrument are we stretched taut?
And what player holds us in his hand?
O sweet song.
Falling Stars
Do you still remember: falling stars,
How they leapt slantwise through the sky
Like horses over suddenly held-out hurdles
Of our wishes – did we have so many? -
For stars, innumerable, leapt everywhere;
Almost every gaze upward became
Wedded to the swift hazard of their play,
And our heart felt like a single thing
Beneath that vast disintegration of their brilliance-
And was whole, as if it would survive them!
-Again and agan, even though we know love’s landscape
and the little churchyard with its lamenting names
and the terrible reticent gorge in which the others
end: again and again the two of us walk out together
under the ancient trees, lay ourselves down again and again
among the flowers, and look up into the sky.
Autumn Day
Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your long shadows on the sundials,
and on the meadows let the winds go free.
Command the last fruits to be full;
give them just two more southern days,
urge them on to completion and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.
Who has no house now, will never build one.
Who is alone now, will long remain so,
will stay awake, read, write long letters
and will wander restlessly up and down
the tree-lines streets, when the leaves are drifting.
The Lovers
See how in their veins all becomes spirit:
into each other they mature and grow.
Like axles, their forms tremblingly orbit,
round which it whirls, bewitching and aglow.
Thirsters, and they receive drink,
watchers, and see: they receive sight.
Let them into one another sink
so as to endure each other outright
Ignorant Before the Heavens of my Life
Ignorant before the heavens of my life,
I stand and gaze in wonder. Oh the vastness
of the stars. Their rising and descent. How still.
As if I didn't exist. Do I have any
share in this? Have I somehow dispensed with
their pure effect? Does my blood's ebb and flow
change with their changes? Let me put aside
every desire, every relationship
except this one, so that my heart grows used to
its farthest spaces. Better that it live
fully aware, in the terror of its stars, than
as if protected, soothed by what is near.
sfranklinwriting's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
5.0
Elegant and sometimes absurdly stout, Rilke both comforts and confronts with his poetic musings. I couldn’t much bare the elegies, only read 5 of them. They held their own in terms of Rilke’s body of work as a whole, but felt almost TOO personal to read (not in an explicative way, more so in a deep introspective, spiritual way). I was enamored throughout this volume though, almost FEELING the settings Rilke would place you in. Easily my new favorite male poet of the early 20th century!
rhaegals's review
5.0
"For beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror, which we can still barely endure,
and while we stand in wonder it coolly disdains
to destroy us."
but the beginning of terror, which we can still barely endure,
and while we stand in wonder it coolly disdains
to destroy us."