Evenings

August 13, 2012

 

You don’t know nights of love? No
petals of soft words float on your blood?
No secret places on your body
throb with memories, like eyes?

Paris, summer 1909

 

Rainer Maria Rilke, The Poetry of Rilke, trans. and ed. Edward Snow, New York: North Point Press (Farrar, Straus and Giroux), 2009: 467.

 

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One Response to “Evenings”


  1. I had no idea that you have such a gorgeous blog! I’m glad that I found it.


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