I’ve had two consecutive days with spells sitting on the outside deck and soaking up the sunshine. Not today, it’s drizzling – still relatively warm though. Yesterday, looking at next door’s weeping elm bursting into fresh leaf and luxuriating in the miracle of it all I recalled a long-forgotten poem of the early 20th German poet, Rilke. Inside, I went looking for it. Here it is, a good summary of the season.
Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,
hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees.
Rainer Maria Rilke