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I always want to like Rilkethan I do I hate having to read poetry in translation, but Snow s translation of these poems seem to be highly regarded, so I don t think my lack of love for Rilke is due to a mistranslation.Poems I enjoyed Love Song, The Unicorn, Childhood, A Woman s Fate, Going Blind, In the Hall, Birth of Venus, and The Bowl of Roses.Favorite image The saint looked up, and the prayerfell back like a helmet from his head for the never believed in silently approached The Unicorn, p 77, lines 1 3 Etwas unausgewogen f r meinen Geschmack Ortsbeschreibungen und Blumen blabla sind nicht mein Ding , aber auch viele tolle Zeilen und Gedichte Der Panther, Die Spitze, Spanische T nzerin, usw.Sie wollten bl hn, und bl hn ist sch n sein doch wir wollen reifen, und das hei t dunkel sein und sich bem hn Im Saal Du schnell vergehendes Daguerreotyp in meinen langsamer vergehenden H nden Jugendbild meines Vaters Und wenn uns eines Tages dieses Tun und was an uns geschieht gering erschiene und uns so fremd, als ob es nicht verdiene, da wir so m hsam aus den Kinderschuhn um seinetwillen wachsen Ob die Bahn vergilbter Spitze, diese dichtgef gte blumige Spitzenbahn, dann nicht gen gte, uns hier zu halten Sieh sie ward getan Ein Leben ward vielleicht verschm ht, wer wei Ein Gl ck war da und wurde hingegeben, und endlich wurde doch, um jeden Preis, dies Ding daraus, nicht leichter als das Leben und doch vollendet und so sch n, als sei s nicht mehr zu fr h, zu l cheln und zu schweben Die Spitze [Read Book] ♷ Neue Gedichte ♀ Translated By Edward Snow Winner Of The Harold Morton Landon Translation Award Rilke S Move To Paris InAnd His Close Association With Rodin Led Him In A New Direction In His Poetry BetweenAndHe Produced A Torrent Of Brilliant Work That He Published In Two Volumes Under The Title Neue Gedichte New PoemsAs Translator Edward Snow Writes, These Books Together Constitute One Of The Great Instances Of The Lyric Quest For Objective Experience Perhaps the following poem summarizes my first impression of Rilke s New Poems The Rose Window In there The lazy pacing of their paws creates a stillness that s almost dizzying and how, then, suddenly one of the cats takes the gaze on it, that strays now and then, violently into its great eye The gaze that, as if seized by a whirlpool s circle, for a little while swims and then sinks and ceases to remember, when this eye, which apparently rests, opens and slams shut with a roaring and tears it deep into the red blood Thus, long ago, out of the darkness the cathedrals great rose windows seized a heart and tore it into God This translation above is slightly different from the one in the book page 53 , but the poetic breaking through from the ordinary to the transcending moments Rose Window of a Cathedral may be exactly what Rilke s poems are about an accessible pictorial narrative yet infused with a transcending glow, both beautiful and terrifying with the potential of a sudden pounce.Quite a few of the poems are from biblical sources The Olive Garden is an intensely human interpretation of Jesus s agony in Gethsemane Many others are from Greco Roman mythology such as Leda imagining the lure of being a swan for the rapist god Jupiter , and the long poems based on Euripides s Alcestis and Orpheus, which are re interpreted from different viewpoint.This reader is grateful for the readability of Rilke s poems with its rich reference to classic texts and symbols In some ways, Rilke reminded me of Cavafy s use of Homeric themes This collection is very enjoyable. Very beautiful poems Again, I have to admit to knowing very little about poetry and therefore may not be a great judge Nor do I know German and so can hardly criticize this translation What I do want to say is that Rilke s ability to perceived objects, both Greek works of art andmundane practical items though I guess many Grecian vases would have been mundane in their original use , and transform them in to different ways of seeing the world is pretty amazing Also it is a very interesting test ground for how the artist process is created out of objects around the artist Are these poems simple descriptions of flowers vases buildings No Are they unique and pretty amazing constructions in their own right Hell yes Very creative and original I highly recommend to anyone interested in poetry or perception or life and reality itself. Many of these poems are quite amazing in translation, and as it is a bilingual edition, it was possible to look over at the German and get a sense for the original flow many of them were rhymed but I think Snow made the right decision in not forcing that into the English versions It is nice to be able to query phrases that seem a little off I had an enjoyable time putting one of my favourites The Olive Garden into Google translate in the German and seeing what it came up with Rilke wrote so much, and so much of it is good, but I think many of these may be his best Some of them seem as though they would have been shocking in their day Pieta comes to mind But for goodness sake, do not just go find any translation Snow really does get it right The others I found of Pieta online just now were terrible, very sentimental, almost twee.Reading truly excellent poetry makes me wish I hadtime to write. This is a truly amazing book of poems for me, as someone who spends most of their poetry describing images to convey stories and emotions Rilke, particularly in the second half, has the ability to write paintings Due to tiredness, I can t truly explain effectively except to say that the sound and imagery make some of the best poetry I ve read in an extremely long time.Particularly useful in this volume was the notes at the bottom The only problem with his poems, and the only reason it does not have the full five stars, is because sometimes they are so purposefully abstract all there is is pretty sound and imagery. Rilke s fine art of the external poem, in which he writes not upon his feelings but upon things which he has felt At times, especially in Rilke s addition of his second collection of new poems, the poems seem rather callous, rather spiritless, but perhaps what Rilke has done through his self dispossession allows, for the first time, the poem to stand alone, to take on metaphorical meaning through the establishment of natural tensions, natural contradictions, and natural harmonies We come to see through these poems how humanity has undergone the great artifice of the sentiment and of the soul. The Departure of the Prodigal SonNow to go away from all this confusionthat is ours without belonging to us,that like the water in old wellspringsmirrors us trembling and destroys the image from all this, that is clinging to usonceas if with thorns to go away,and on all the scattered thingsyou d long since ceased to see they were so everyday and ordinary suddenly to gaze gently, contritely,and as in a beginning and from close by and to fathom how impersonally,how over everyone the sorrow camethat filled childhood up to the brim And even then to go away, hand slippingfrom hand, as if you tore a new healed wound,and to go away where into uncertainty,far into some warm, unrelated landthat behind all acting will beindifferent as a backdrop garden or wall and to go away why From urge, from instinct,from impatience, from dark expectation,from not understanding and not being understood To take all this upon yourself and in vainperhaps let fall the things you ve held,in order to die alone, not knowing why Is this the way new life commences In the HallHow they re all around us, these gentlemenin chamberlain s attire and lace,like a night around its order stargrowing ever darker, relentlessly,and these ladies, slight, fragile, yet made largeby their dresses, with one hand in their laps,small like the collar for a tiny dog how they re around each of us here around the reader,around the observer of these trinkets,many of which still belong to them.Full of tact, they let us go on undisturbedliving life as we conceive it, a lifethey don t understand They wanted blooming,and blooming is being beautiful but we want ripening,and that means being dark and taking pains.The TowerTour St Nicolas, FurnesEarth inwardness As if the goal toward whichyou re blindly climbing were the earth s outside,and you were climbing toward it in the steeplywinding bed of streams that have welled up slowlyfrom this groping clot of darkness through whichyour face is pressing, as if rising from the dead,and which suddenly you see, as though it plungedfrom this abyss which overhangs youand which, as gigantically above youit turns head over heels in the glimmering rafters,you recognize, with a rush of terror, feeling O if it climbs, hung like a bull But then gusty light pulls you out ofthat narrow ending Almost flying you see herethe skies again, dazzle upon dazzle,and there the depths, awake and full of use,and little days like those of Patenier,present all at once, their hours side by side,and bridges leaping through them like dogs,always on the scent of the bright roadwhich clumsy houses sometimes barelymanage to conceal, until far in the backgroundit moves relieved through brushwood and open field.Edward Snow Translation David Sings before SaulIKing, do you hear how my strings castdistances, through which we re winding Bewildered stars drift up to us,and we fall at long last like a rain,and it flowers where this rain came down.Girls flower, whom you once knew,and who now are women tempting me you can detect the scent of virgins,and young boys stand, stretchedslim and breathing, at secluded doors.That my sound could bring it back to you But my music s reeling drunkenly Your nights, King, your nights ,and how lovely, weakened by your prowess,O how lovely all those bodies were.I can just keep pace with your remembering,since I divine But on what strings might Ipluck for you their dark moans of pleasure IIKing, you who had all this,and who with sheer lifeoverwhelm and overshadow me come down from your throne and smashmy harp, which you re exhausting so.It s like a tree picked bare through the branches that bore you fruita depth now gazes, as of days thatare approaching , and I scarcely know them.Let me sleep no longer beside the harp take a look at this boyish hand do you think, King, that it still can tspan the octaves of a body IIIKing, you ensconse yourself in darknesses,and still I have you in my grip.Look, my sturdy song spins on untorn,and the space around us both grows cold.My abandoned heart and your entangled oneare hanging in your anger s clouds,madly locked in one another s jawsand clawed together in a single pulse.Do you feel now, how we re changing King, King, gravity s becoming spirit.If only we can cling to one another,you to youth, King, I to age,we re almost like a circling star.