Some days ago the very talented translator of Rilke’s poems James Burnham sent me some wonderful examples of his work regarding flowers. I really want to thank him for this generous gesture and took one of these poems as an inspiration for a new post. All these roses are from our garden.
How it stands out against the darkening
of a rainy evening, young and pure,
its lifeless tendrils given in sacrifice
and yet, still intent on being a rose;
the shallow flowers, some already open,
each unintended, each untended.
Thus, endlessly surpassing itself,
it calls to the wanderer passing by
along the road in evening reflection:
Oh look at me standing here so secure
and unprotected, having what I need.
Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by James Burnham