| COMBIEN A-T-ON FAIT AUX FLEURS ... | HOW MANY SECRETS WE HARBOUR ... |
| Rainer Maria Rilke | trans. Brian Cole |
|
Combien a-t-on fait aux fleurs d'étranges confidences, pour que cette fine balance nous dise le poids de l'ardeur. Les astres sont tous confus qu'à nos chagrins on les mêle. Et du plus fort au plus frêle nul ne supporte plus notre humeur variable, nos révoltes, nos cris -, sauf l'infatigable table et le lit (table évanouie). |
How many secrets we harbour and have told the flowers, so that in their graceful bowers they tell us how strong is our ardour. The stars are confused to their core that all our problems we tell. From the strongest to the most frail none can put up any more with our variable mood, our revolts and our cries -, except the untiring table's wood and the bed (when the table's died). |
Trans. Copyright © Brian Cole 2003