Robert Hass

SEPTEMBER 19

Rainer Maria Rilke: Herbsttag

Rainer Maria Rilke is one of the great poets of the twentieth century.

He's also one of the most popular. He's been translated again and again, as if some ideal English version of his German poems haunted so many minds that writers have had to keep trying to find it. Here, for the time of year, are some translations of a poem about the fall. He wrote it in Paris on September 21, 1902.

Autumn Day

Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials,
and let loose the wind in the fields.

Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now will not build one anymore.
Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long time,
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.

-Galway Kinnell and Hannah Liebmann, The Essential Rilke

(Ecco Press)

Lord, it is time. The summer was too long.
Lay your shadow on the sundials now,
and through the meadows let the winds throng.

Ask the last fruits to ripen on the vine;
give them further two more summer days
to bring about perfection and to raise
the final sweetness in the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now will establish none,
whoever lives alone now will live on long alone,
will waken, read, and write long letters,
wander up and down the barren paths
the parks expose when the leaves are blown.

-William H. Gass, Reading Rilke: Reflections on the Problem of Translation (Knopf)

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 the boulevards, up and down,
restlessly, while the dry leaves are blowing.

-Stephen Mitchell, The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke (Random House)

Lord, it is time now,
for the summer has gone on
and gone on.
Lay your shadow along the sun-
dial, and in the field
let the great wind blow free.

Command the last fruit
be ripe:
let it bow down the vine-
with perhaps two sun-warm days
more to force the last
sweetness in the heavy wine.

He who has no home
will not build one now.
He who is alone
will stay long
alone, will wake up,
read, write long letters,

and walk in the streets,
walk by in the
streets when the leaves blow.

-John Logan, from "Homage to Rainer Maria Rilke,"
John Logan: The Collected Poems (BOA Editions)

Here is the German text [….]

And here, adapted from Stanley Burnshaw's immensely useful book The Poem Itself, is a literal translation:

Lord, it is time. The summer was (has been) very great.
Lay Thy shadow upon the sun dials
and on the (open) fields (meadows) let loose (unleash) the winds.

Command the last fruits to be (become) full (ripe);
give them another two southerly days,
urge them on toward perfection (fulfillment), and drive (chase)
the last (final) sweetness into the heavy wine.

Who now has no house, builds himself none any more.
Who now is alone, will long remain so,
will wake, read, write long letters
and will restlessly wander up and down the tree-lined avenues
when the leaves are swirling.

Robert Hass: Now & Then [1999]