Rainer Maria Rilke - Autumn Day

Lord: it is time. The huge summer has gone by.
Now overlap the sundials with your shadows,
and on the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruits to swell on tree and vine;
grant them a few more warm transparent days,
urge them on to fulfillment then, and press
the final sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now, will never have one.
Whoever is alone will stay alone,
will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,
and wander on the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.

Rainer Maria Rilke - Rustic Chapel

How calm the house is: listen! But up there, in the white chapel, where does that greater silence come from?—From all those who, for more than a century, have come in so as not to be out in the cold and, kneeling down, have been frightened at their own noise? From the money that lost its voice falling into the collection box and will speak in just a small cricket-chirp when it is taken out? Or from the sweet absence of Saint Anne, the sanctuary’s patron, who doesn’t dare to come closer, lest she damage that pure distance which a call implies?

Oh, he who unlocks the secret of flowering:
his heart will rise above the smallest of dangers
and will meet the greatest of them, death, without fear.