Author of quotes: Rainer Maria Rilke. Page 2

I will read. I read a long time ago,
since the rain started to lash the window.
All head first into reading after retiring,
I have not heard of rain.
I studied the lines as in wrinkles
reverie, and watch in a row
was time or walked back.
Suddenly I see, paint Carmine
they typed: sunset, sunset, sunset...
As the bone necklaces, the strings are torn
and the letters roll where they want.
I know the sun, leaving the garden,
should again look back
because of covered by the dawn of the fence.

And slender man in clothes of blue
Walked first and looked forward.
Eat, without chewing, the road step of it,
A heavy burden from the cascade of pleats
Hung tightly clenched hands,
Almost forgot about light,the lyre,
Which was grown in the left elbow
As the rose bitches in olive grows...
<...>
Walked with God meanwhile she
Though hampered her too long shroud,
Walked hesitantly, slowly.
It is in itself closed, as heavily pregnant
Not thinking about who is ahead,
And their path that leads to life.
His filled with death,
It is in itself closed.
As the fruit is ripe - sweetness and darkness,
It was full by his death.
His unclear death.
<...>
Forever ceased to be it
Beautiful blond songs
Fragrant island in the bed.
The man she no longer owned.
It was disbanded scythe,
The rain that has taken the earth
It was a lot of wasted stock.
She managed to become an underground root.
Hence, when all of a sudden God
Stopped her sudden movement
And bitterly said, "He turned around", -
She asked in surprise: "Who?"
Where in the darkness loomed the light output,
Stood motionless someone whose face
It is impossible to know. He stood and watched
As the pale strip of road
Joined with sad eyes, the God-messenger,
To silence a shadow to accompany,
Which meadows was coming back
Though prevented her from too long a shroud, -
Walked hesitantly, slowly...

On Holy my loneliness - you!
And days spacious, bright and clean
As morning awakened the garden.
Loneliness! The call of distant I do not believe
And hold the Golden door,
There, behind her, wishes hell.

As love comes to your life?
Comes like the sun, like a bright flower
or prayer existence?
From the sky shone clear as happiness,
and spread its wings she
my soul is blooming...
<...>
What happened, I don't know...
Don't know what happiness is;
heart frantic, like intoxicating,
and as a song - my longing.
The girl locks are burning
brighter than the sun or the crown,
and her eyes from Madonna
and today the miracle they do.
In the garden we plunged into the thought
and dusk wrapped us hops
and upstairs, humming grimly,
entangled in the leaves bumblebee.
You weave flare magnificently,
as tape in hair vine
and I once whispered almost inaudibly:
"What are your eyes!"

And it is a gift: that went past us
the possibility of happiness. No, not that. Not so.
Rather, the impossibility...

The night sky is dim silvery,
all the excess print.
We are far, we can not merge -
and too close to not know him.
A shooting star!.. To her hurried is your opinion
make asking moments of these ...
What happen, what's not to be in the world?
And who is to blame? Who is not guilty?..

This meal - pass the quagmire
Unknown in his days
Gait like the Swan.
Death is the ultimate nedostigenii
The Foundation of our life -
Timid his splashdown.
Picking up his river fold
Gradually, gently and lovingly,
All over the bottom will be removed,
Swan now, Voss to the bed,
With every moment cartenna and stricter
Stretches forward and keep his tone light.

Flowers, flowers, flowers
whose fate is to fall,
in order for fruit to create
the space of purity.
All of this without end
we all have a heart attack,
is nostalgic
how many hearts.
So the miracle deepened
your voice, horn wonderful
like heaven
hunter sounded.

In the dream, and maybe in the spring
you met me.
But the fall came, and bitter
you cry in the daylight.
What do you mean? On the leaves fallen?
Il about a past spring?
I know we were happy
in the spring, and maybe during sleep.

How love came to you? Sun beam?
Or Apple color? Il summer rain?
Or a prayer? Answer me!
It out of the sky like summer lightning of happiness came down
and adding two of their bright wing,
clung to the soul blossomed...

Lived without affection, without hi -
so, apparently, was destined...
Suddenly came in a flood of light,
love whether there are any - all the same.
Then he left, she remained, -
looking at the pond in front of him...
Like a dream, it all began
and turned suddenly fate.

As a soul, hold me to it,
you parting, not a meeting you were looking for?
If, forgotten, alone,
it is in the dense gloom he lay,
me hidden in a hiding place such
where nothing of yours got in!
But as the bow, two strings, referring to sudden,
of them taketh a single sound,
so, you and I: we always sound together.
Who touches them, these two strings?
And that violin, which concluded
such songs?

Now the homeless will not build the house,
Lonely, he is lonely.
Not to sleep, to read, drop the outline of the rows
Wander the alleys of fallen trees,
When autumn leaves rustling at your feet.

The white castle all white.
In the mirrored room crawling blindly horror.
Dug into the walls of ivy, predsmertnoe tuiasi.
The roads in the world has Perello.
Empty sky hangs heavy.
And to the door past the white canopies
melancholy crept in. But, hours after leaving,
somewhere time to die left.