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| Four Seasons - oil painting - 2020, Petras Lukosius. |
A Walk
by Rainer Maria Rilke, 1924
(Translated by Robert Bly)
"My eyes already touch the sunny hill
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has inner light, even from a distance
and changes us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on
answering our own wave...
but what we feel is the wind in our faces."
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| Reveal Arriving - oil painting - 2020, Petras Lukosius. |
Evening
(Translated by A. S. Kline)
Slowly the evening draws on its coat
Held out to it by a row of ancient trees:
You gaze: and the landscape splits in two,
One part lifting skywards, while one falls,
Leaving you not quite part of anything,
Not quite so dark as the house, the silent one,
Not quite as surely invoking the eternal,
As that which turns to star each night, rising -
Leaving you (indescribably, to unravel)
Your anxious, immense, and ripening life:
So that, now bounded, and now grasped,
It becomes, in turn, stone in you, and star.
***
(Text to come...)
