Again and again, however we know the landscape of love..
A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place..
All this stood upon her and was the world..
Along the sun-drenched roadside, from the great..
And night and distant rumbling; now the army's..
And you wait, keep waiting for that one thing..
As in a sleeping-drink spices..
As in one's hand a lighted match blinds you before..
As once the winged energy of delight..
A tree ascended there. Oh pure transcendence..
Be ahead of all parting, as though it already were..
Being apart and lonely is like rain..
Breathing: you invisible poem! Complete..
But you now, dear girl, whom I loved..
Call to me the
one among your moments..
Come let us watch
the sun go down..
Come thou, thou
last one, whom I recognize..
Do you remember
still the falling stars..
Encircled by
her arms as by a shell..
Ever since
those wondrous days of Creation..
Exposed on the
cliffs of the heart..
Extinguish
Thou my eyes: I still can see Thee..
Harshness
vanished. A sudden softness..
He felt the
entrance's green darkness..
High above he
stands, beside the many..
His tired gaze
from passing endless bars..
How can I keep
my soul in me, so that..
How I have felt
that thing that is called 'to part'..
How my body
blooms from every vein..
I am always
going from door to door..
I am blind, you
out there--that is a curse..
I am like a flag
in the center of open space..
I am no one and
never will be anyone..
Ignorant before
the heavens of my life..
I have great
faith in all things not yet spoken..
I held myself too
open, I forgot..
In some summers
there is so much fruit..
Interior of the
hand. Sole that has come to walk..
In the beginning
life was good to me..
It would be good
to give much thought, before..
I would like to
sing someone to sleep..
Look at the
flowers, so faithful to what is..
Look how she
stands, high on the steep facade..
Look how the
same possibilities..
Losing too is
still ours; and even forgetting..
Music:
breathing of statues. Perhaps..
My eyes already
touch the sunny hill..
My whole life
is mine, but whoever says so..
Night. O you
whose countenance, dissolved..
O hours of my
muse: why do you leave me..
O how all
things are far removed..
Only mouths are
we. Who sings the distant heart..
Other vessels hold
wine, other vessels hold oil..
O trees of life,
oh, what when winter comes?..
O you tender ones,
walk now and then..
Perhaps it's no
more than the fire's reflection..
Rose, you majesty
-once, to the ancients..
See how in their
veins all becomes spirit..
She sat just like
the others at the table..
She who did
not come, wasn't she determined..
Slowly the west
reaches for clothes of new colors..
Someday, if I
should ever lose you..
Sometimes she
walks through the village..
Strange violin,
why do you follow me?..
Suddenly, from
all the green around you..
Suddenly she
steps, wrapped into the wind..
Swing of the
heart. O firmly hung, fastened on what..
Telling you all
would take too long..
That some day,
emerging at last from the terrifying..
The deep parts
of my life pour onward..
The leaves are
falling, falling as if from far up..
The rich and the
fortunate do well to keep silent..
The saintly
hermit, midway through his prayers..
The steadfastness
of generations of nobility..
The summer hums.
The afternoon fatigues..
They are
assembled, astonished and disturbed..
This laboring
through what is still undone..
This night,
agitated by the growing storm..
Though the world
keeps changing its form..
We lack all
knowledge of this parting..
What fields are
fragrant as your hands?..
What I have
already learned as a lover..
Whoever now
weeps somewhere in the world..
Who, if I cried
out, would hear me among the angels..
Whom will you
cry to, heart? More and more lonely..
Who says that
all must vanish?..
Windows pampered
like princes always see..
World was in the
face of the beloved..
You who are close
to my heart always..
You, whom I do not
tell that all night long..