Evening Poetry, September 17

The Solitary

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Like one who’s voyaged over foreign oceans

am I among these eternally at home;

the full days stand dumbly on their tables,

but to me the far-off is full of dream.

Deep inside my face a world reaches,

which perhaps is uninhabited like a moon;

but they leave no feeling to itself,

and all their words have long been lived in.

The things I brought with me from far away

appear outlandish, compared with theirs–:

in their great homeland they were wild animals,

here they hold their breath out of shame.

You can find this poem in The Book of Images.

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