that perpetually resists you:
imploringly close, like a dog's face,
but always turned away
imploringly close, like a dog's face,
but always turned away
when you think to finally capture it.
Most of what's yours is withdrawn like that.
We are free. We were released therein
where we at first thought we were welcome.
Most of what's yours is withdrawn like that.
We are free. We were released therein
where we at first thought we were welcome.
Fearfully, we reach back
for a hold,
too young sometimes for the old,
and too old for that which never was.
too young sometimes for the old,
and too old for that which never was.
We, just only where we nonetheless praise,
because we, oh we, are the axe and the branch
and the sweetness of ripening risk.
because we, oh we, are the axe and the branch
and the sweetness of ripening risk.
Rilke, Sonette an Orpheus, Second series,
23
Rufe mich zu jener deiner Stunden,
Rufe mich zu jener deiner Stunden,
die dir unaufhorlich widersteht:
flehend nah wie das Gesicht von
Hunden,
aber immer wieder weggedreht,
wenn du meinst, sie endlich zu
erfassen.
So Entzognes ist am meisten dein.
Wir sind frei. Wir wurden dort
entlassen,
wo wir meinten, erst begrüsst zu
sein.
Bang verlangen wir nach einem
Halte,
wir zu Jungen manchmal für das
Alte
und zu alt für das, was niemals
war.
Wir, gerecht nur, wo wir dennoch
preisen,
weil wir, ach, der Ast sind und
das Eisen
und das Süsse reifender Gefahr.
