she ran until she could run no more
screamed until she could scream no more
fought until she could fight no more—
yet to save her it was never enough.

she was forged with iron, wrought of steel.
bourne of fire, taught never to feel.
she was the daughter of life, mistress to night—
grace brought of blood, fallen being of light.

she is beauty, insanity— and all in-between.

Skellums! Intae doomed countra
Ironclad ah dwell,
Claymore flashing in yon mirror,
And o'er the dreary muir.

The truth about the world is hidden.
Records about it (because they were)
are locked in the iron mountain by a man.

Iron protects well against persistence.

For us remained only Pythagoras,
Plato,
Daedalus.

But we talk about Icarus most often
because defiantness and falling down
are exemplary.

You can hear it (only to hear)
in a swallow's flight when cuts an air,
when puts reality like ears of grain.

The truth is in the rustle of insects,
seasons of the year,
passing,

you can see it
in circles on the water
and honeycombs,

in trees it goes on without moving
just like in rocks,

but in the spoon of tar is the most of it.

The truth is also in the emptiness of the beach:
the sound of waves often talks about it
whenever touch of dunes on the back
tickles with it.

Then you can smile
and not even know
that the body felt the story.

For us it is just a movement of the grass
on the wind.

The short story
about the truth

it was.

Der Panther ("The Panther")
by Rainer Maria Rilke
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

His weary vision's so overwhelmed by iron bars,
his exhausted eyes see only blank Oblivion.
His world is not our world. It has no stars.
No light. Ten thousand bars. Nothing beyond.
Lithe, swinging with a rhythmic easy stride,
he circles, his small orbit tightening,
an electron losing power. Paralyzed,
soon regal Will stands stunned, an abject thing.
Only at times the pupils' curtains rise
silently, and then an image enters,
descends through arrested shoulders, plunges, centers
somewhere within his empty heart, and dies.

Keywords/Tags: Rainer Maria Rilke, German, translation, sonnet, panther, cat, animal, nature, extended metaphor, analogy, allegory, freedom, eyes, vision, iron, bar, bars, cage, prison, world, star, light, starlight, stride, orbit, electron, atom, particle, power, will, paralyzed, impotent, abject, pupils, curtain, curtains, image, shoulder, shoulders, heart, emptiness, loneliness, alienation, death, void

Hong Kong China crunch
clash of ideologies—
iron mixed with clay

Words only cut skin-deep if you
Don't take anything to heart.