When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum. I call out for you against the jutted stars And shout into the ridges of the wind. Streets coming fast, One after the other, Wedge you away from me, And the lamps of the city prickRead More →

When you, my Dear, are away, away, How wearily goes the creeping day. A year drags after morning, and night Starts another year of candle light. O Pausing Sun and Lingering Moon! Grant me, I beg of you, this boon. Whirl round the earth as never sun Has his diurnalRead More →

Understand, I’ll slip quietly away from the noisy crowd when I see the pale stars rising, blooming, over the oaks. I’ll pursue solitary pathways through the pale twilit meadows, with only this one dream: You come too. ~ Rainer Maria RilkeRead More →

I am not yours, not lost in you, Not lost, although I long to be Lost as a candle lit at noon, Lost as a snowflake in the sea. You love me, and I find you still A spirit beautiful and bright, Yet I am I, who long to beRead More →

Before you kissed me only winds of heaven Had kissed me, and the tenderness of rain — Now you have come, how can I care for kisses Like theirs again? I sought the sea, she sent her winds to meet me, They surged about me singing of the south —Read More →

You, Helen, who see the stars As mistletoe berries burning in a black tree, You surely, seeing I am a bowl of kisses Should put your mouth to mine and drink of me. Helen, you let my kisses steam Wasteful into the night’s black nostrils; drink Me up, I pray;Read More →

Woman in a Field

Don’t you care for my love? she said bitterly. I handed her the mirror, and said: Please address these questions to the proper person! Please make all requests to head-quarters! In all matters of emotional importance please approach the supreme authority direct! – So I handed her the mirror. AndRead More →

My hands have not touched water since your hands, – No; – nor my lips freed laughter since ‘farewell’. And with the day, distance again expands Between us, voiceless as an uncoiled shell. Yet, – much follows, much endures … Trust birds alone: A dove’s wings clung about my heartRead More →

She comes not when Noon is on the roses– Too bright is Day. She comes not to the Soul till it reposes From work and play. But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices Roll in from Sea, By starlight and candle-light and dreamlight She comes toRead More →