Sep 2018
"THE EARTH IS LIKE A CHILD THAT KNOWS POEMS BY HEART"
The night
had stuffed the dark
into every crevice
of the house
and his life
awoke to a big blue sky
holding a crocus
in the palm of its morning.
The world was springing
into being
all around him
as if existence had
changed its mind and
decided to stay.
A solitary oak
reached a gnarled hand
and snatched a cloud
( that happened to be passing by )
out of the air
just like that.
The cloud struggled
to break free.
The oak gave a hearty laugh
and let it go.
The cloud scurried away
fretfully looking over its shoulder.
"So, what kept ya?"
he asked spring.
Spring...just smiled.
The night
had stuffed the dark
into every crevice
of the house
and his life
awoke to a big blue sky
holding a crocus
in the palm of its morning.
The world was springing
into being
all around him
as if existence had
changed its mind and
decided to stay.
A solitary oak
reached a gnarled hand
and snatched a cloud
( that happened to be passing by )
out of the air
just like that.
The cloud struggled
to break free.
The oak gave a hearty laugh
and let it go.
The cloud scurried away
fretfully looking over its shoulder.
"So, what kept ya?"
he asked spring.
Spring...just smiled.
Riffing on Rilke's lovely line!
Spring has come back again. The Earth is
like a child that’s got poems by heart;
so many poems, so many verses,
patient toil winning her prizes at last.
Strict, the old teacher. We loved the whiteness
in the old gentleman’s beard, its bright snow.
Now when we ask what the green, what the blue is,
Earth knows the answer, has learned it. She knows.
Earth, you’re on holiday, lucky one: play now!
Play with us children! We’ll try to catch you.
Glad, joyous Earth! The gladdest must win.
Every lesson the old teacher taught her,
all that is printed in roots and laborious
stems: now she sings it! Listen, Earth sings!
Rainer Maria Rilke; translated by Stephen Cohn
Spring has come back again. The Earth is
like a child that’s got poems by heart;
so many poems, so many verses,
patient toil winning her prizes at last.
Strict, the old teacher. We loved the whiteness
in the old gentleman’s beard, its bright snow.
Now when we ask what the green, what the blue is,
Earth knows the answer, has learned it. She knows.
Earth, you’re on holiday, lucky one: play now!
Play with us children! We’ll try to catch you.
Glad, joyous Earth! The gladdest must win.
Every lesson the old teacher taught her,
all that is printed in roots and laborious
stems: now she sings it! Listen, Earth sings!
Rainer Maria Rilke; translated by Stephen Cohn
