Thursday, June 26, 1986

FORGETFUL Rilke transliterations

        —after Rilke

I have been a fawn amid the ferns
I won't die when the wind comes
I see her wandering with the darkness
on such a night like this.
The turf is sleeping, saintlike,
and in the morning the road
is still the first pattern of the night
and the stream's answer is not there.
Then waking the storm to let the egrets fly
across the sea and I braid my eyes
so that they will fall like hair into yours
and from that we will drink
and gaze into the broken storm.



When I come to your command
and watch you rise up to meet me
like the boat of evening and we ride
each other's swell until your face
is like an empty mirrored sea
upon which the dragons of memory sleep.

To say come out of darkness for me
for three meals a day: one in heaven,
and two on earth. Bounty.
He wore a lion's helmet: one red as blood.
the other green as grass.

Until we reach four mountain passes
and have nothing but a point of light
to guide us from the darkness,
we will have no more handholds.
Be not afraid because the time that will come
is no different from that of the past.

In my wearied soul
drifting under an inflamed sky
the punishing slickness,
troubling for those among us
who are tired, and for those who follow me.
A fiery hand is goading me onward
under the weight of the nebulous sea.

The damage was so extensive on the last stanza, I was only able to resurrect one word in five. added, rev. 9/17

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