Guest poem sent in by Tim Reynolds
(Poem #1451) Rose, Oh Pure Contradiction, Joy Rose, oh pure contradiction, joy of being No-one's sleep, under so many lids. |
(translation by Stephen Mitchell)
Notes: This is Rilke's self-composed epitaph; in the original German:
Rose, oh reiner Widerspruch, Lust
Niemandes Sclaf zu sein unter soviel
Lidern.
The Tanith Lee poem [Poem #1366] reminded me of today's poem by Rilke.
"Lidern" could be a pun on "Lieder", songs, poems. Lips like roses is a
cliche, but lips like rose *petals*, clinically precise, a matter of texture
not color, isn't.
Tim
[Martin adds]
I find the line breaks in this poem confusing - could someone who speaks
German tell me whether they're more natural in the original?
[Links]
Another translation, and a biography:
[broken link] http://www.geocities.com/Paris/LeftBank/4027/bio.html
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