Written with astonishing rapidity in two weeks of February 1922, when Rilke was finally completing the Duino Elegies that had occupied him intermittently for a decade, Sonnets to Orpheus is a series of fifty-five brilliant and affirmative songs. It is in a sense a spontaneous creative dividend generated by a larger work. Because the sonnets were written only four years before Rilke's death, they belong properly to his final and philosophic period, and offer a sharp and striking contrast to the less mystical Das Buch der Bilder and Neue Gedichte .
Rainer Maria Rilke was one of Germany's most important poets. His influences include the paintings of the Worpswedders and the French Impressionists, the sculpture of Rodin (to whom he was both friend and secretary), and the poetry of Baudelaire, Verlaine, Mallarmé, and other symbolists. His poetry is innovative, enigmatic, and entertainingly idiosyncratic. C.F. MacIntyre's translations are both true to the original and poetic in their own right, and in each book he includes an introduction and notes. German text faces the English translation.
A mystic lyricism and precise imagery often marked verse of German poet Rainer Maria Rilke, whose collections profoundly influenced 20th-century German literature and include The Book of Hours (1905) and The Duino Elegies (1923).
People consider him of the greatest 20th century users of the language.
His haunting images tend to focus on the difficulty of communion with the ineffable in an age of disbelief, solitude, and profound anxiety — themes that tend to position him as a transitional figure between the traditional and the modernist poets.
It's a shame I couldn't have read Sonnets to Orpheus in the original text, but alas, my German is not up to scratch. Whilst writing in 1922 on his deeply philosophical Duino Elegies, and experiencing what he described as a 'savage creative storm' Rilke wrote these extraordinary, darkly bewildering and joyful cycle of sonnets, 55 of them in fact, one just as good as the other, like an album with no filler. They are, Rilke wrote later, 'perhaps most mysterious even to me, in the manner in which they arrived and imposed themselves on me - the most puzzling dictation I have ever received and taken down.' This kind of dictation is often the source of the worst as well as the best writings'.
Hailed as one of his best pieces of writing, I have to say this not only took me by surprise, it completely blew me away, to fully experience the expressions of his immense talent. Beautiful to read, cleansing soul and spirit...
Silent friend of those far away, sense How your breath expands space. Amidst the beams of the gloomy belfry, Let yourself toll. It is a succubus who
Feeds on your sustenance. Enter and exit, in your metamorphoses. If your experiences have been painful And drinking them has been bitter, turn them into wine.
In this night of excess, be Magically empowered, at this crossroads of your feelings, And become the meaning of this strange conjoining.
And if what is of earth forgets you, Say to that earth of silence: I flow. Say to the rushing waters: I am.
Rilke's invocations to a transcendent world and the underworld recognize that Orpheus' discovery of the poetic image involves the migration between these two worlds. Sonnets to Orpheus are the appropriation of a myth. Like his mythological predecessor Orpheus, Rilke also learned that poetic activity is never complete despite the ability to transgress lyrical singing. For Rilke, Orpheus did not pass permanently into the world of the dead. Still, in recognizing his mortality, he faced his human reality, which helped him create his poetic song that prolonged his existence and notoriety.
For the last few months, I’ve been reading a poem aloud every morning in bed. Then I write the date and time and name of the poem in my journal. It started as a way to avoid looking at my phone first thing. Honestly, I didn’t expect it to last more than a week. But it’s proven a lovely morning ritual, the first in my life that’s actually stuck. When I begin the poem, I usually want nothing more than to go back to sleep. By the time I finish reading, I’m ready to get out of bed. It’s almost like magic.
Usually, I turn to a mainstay, most often my Emilys (Dickinson and Brontë, obviously). But for the last month or so, I’ve been reading a sonnet or two from Sonnets to Orpheus. For this purpose, it is beyond perfect.
Dance the orange. Fling the warmer landscape out from you, so the ripe fruit may glow in its native breezes! Aglow yourselves, peel (1:15)
The poems have the spirit of morning, of dawn, of early light and anxious pleasure at the coming day; the perfect accompaniment to a rainy gray dawn; equally fit for sun beaming through just opened curtains.
Fish are mute…, one used to think. Who knows? But is there not finally a place where what fish language would be is spoken without them? (2:20)
And if the earthly should forget you, say to the silent loam: I flow. To the rushing water speak: I am. (2:29)
Çevirideki hüneri ve emeği saygıyla ayırarak söylemeli, pek çokları gibi şiirde çeviriye inanmıyorum; lakin Orpheus'a Soneler'de gözün yüzeyde dahi olsa avlayabildiği, zihnin bir anlığına bile olsa Türkçe duyup kavrayabildiği her şey, büyük -söylenmiş- bir şiire işaret ediyor, bunu hissettiriyor. Hava yerine şiir solumuş Rilke'nin yalnızca yansımasının çağ delici gücü bu. Mucizevi.
...She slept the world. Singing god, how was that first sleep so perfect that she had no desire ever to wake? See: she arose and slept. Where is her death now? Ah, will you discover this theme before your song consumes itself?— Where is she vanishing? … A girl almost..
The lyrical and metaphorical Sonnets to Orpheus consists of 55 sonnets written in 1922 and are inspired by the death of Rilke's daughter's friend, Wera Ouckama Knoop and are dedicated to her memory.
Silent friend of many distances, feel how your breath enlarges all of space. Let your presence ring out like a bell into the night. What feeds upon your face grows mighty from the nourishment thus offered. Move through transformation, out and in. What is the deepest loss that you have suffered? If drinking is bitter, change yourself to wine. In this immeasurable darkness, be the power that rounds your senses in their magic ring, the sense of their mysterious encounter. And if the earthly no longer knows your name, whisper to the silent earth: I’m flowing. To the flashing water say: I am.
A song that harkens Carpe Diem as a duty. A poem that sustains metaphysical eternal truths against the inevitability of death. That we love forever but die in a century. That nature is an eternal cycle of life that our bodies are riding inside as only temporary vehicles. That the earth will transcend our death. Or at least, that's the take-home feeling before more pedantically unpacking mythology and semantics. The words of poems are felt before they are known. Rilke does encourage thinking, it does help to develop feelings here. I think it's more coherent than a lot of other poetry I read (though it is abstract). Be sure to read whatever introduction and helper notes you get with your edition!
It has 55 sonnets in ABAB ABA ABA rhythm in German, but the translation has settled with inconsistent half-rhymes in favour of meaning. So while the message is strongly there in English, the optimism and playfulness might be lost from the original. But that's not such a sore loss for those focused on the poem — the words themselves evoke the ballad with their vivacity.
Hard not to finish in a single sitting, clearly 4-5* material here. Very romantic in its motivation for creativity and expression. But something about it restrains me from loving it completely, because something about it seems incomplete in its breadth. It's not clear to me exactly what it is. It is as if some of the darkness of nature was omitted from these visions. These are the dark elements that overhang romantic fairy tales, but I think Rilke didn't truly dive into the darkness here. And so it feels optimistic by omission, which to my view cheapens it some. That's quite alright, not every book need encompass the entirety of the world. And maybe it's wrong of me to think there is a darkness beyond a natural death in the context of these sonnets. But somehow, it makes me sceptical, that this is not the whole of life. Needless to say, I will be exploring more of Rilke in the future to see if the missing piece is elsewhere in his work, or is really a missing piece in me, as a reader. I will also be returning for more pragmatic reasons, because I'm now slowly starting to work through my favourite parts of Harold Bloom's Western Canon.
Ο ποιητής ως άλλος Ορφέας αποτίει φόρο τιμής με τα σονέτα του στη δική του Ευρυδίκη. Μέσα από τη χρήση μυθολογικών στοιχείων ο ποιητικός λόγος του R. M. Rilke διανθίζεται και αποκτά μεταφυσική υπόσταση. Παραθέτω αγαπημένα θραύσματα ποιημάτων υιοθετώντας τη φράση του Γ. Κεντρωτή "δεν ακούνε όλοι τα ίδια πράγματα και με τον ίδιο τρόπο".
"Το ξέρουμε ή όχι, ω φίλοι; Η άγνοια ακολουθεί τη γνώση! Και αμφότερες η αμήχανη ώρα, με ίχνη μπερδεμένα τις έχει επάνω στην ανθρώπινη ειδή δηλώσει."
"Από τα σκότη μια σαφήνεια παρδαλή, με σκέτους πηδάει τόνους, και της ζήλιας μάλλον λάμψη ανάρια σπέρνει απ' τους τεθνεώτες που το χώμα δυναμώνουν."
"Και πόσες θέσεις απ' αυτές του χώρου εντός μου ήδη ήσαν;"
"Αλλά η παραφορά περνά χωρίς ν' αφήσει ούτε ίχνος. Καμπύλες πτήσεων εναέριες φέγγουν όντας λύχνος των ιπταμένων. Ίσως μάταιος. Μα απλώς ως σκέψη."
There is this cemetery I used to go for a walk. It never felt like a cemetery, but a huge park full of tall trees and bizarre and beautiful sculptures and lazy cats. One day I came back there with a friend and accidentally we crashed into a funeral. A hearse, a woman crying, my friend saying that we better go, we better go, but he was too cold to feel any of that. I just felt guilty to be there, to be here, to be alive. I still wash my hands compulsively as to remove the scent of a candle and the hint of death.
Ironically enough on the same day I picked up this book in a library and even more ironically my grandfather died a few days after. Reading these poems was really precious to me.
The story behind this set of poems is rather simple, but at the same time incredible one. I think the death of Rilke’s young acquaintance was a trigger to express on paper so much of his thoughts, feelings, emotions and life events… It feels really genuine the possibility of presence, absence and presence after the absence.
"Susuyor her şey. Ama yine de suskunlukta bile yeni bir başlangıç var, bir işaret ve değişim"." (s.25)
Küçük bir kitap olmasına rağmen o kadar çok not almışım ki... Nereden başlasam bilemiyorum. Şair ne anlatıyor? Şair insana dair evrensel her türlü detayı, şiire dökmüş. Her türlü yoğun duyguyu, yani aşk, sevgi, nefret... Ancak içerisine bu şiirlerin kozmosa dair felsefi düşüncelerini de serpiştirmiş. İzleri sürelim;
Bu dizeler beni çocukluğuma götürdü. Büyüdüğüm köyde diktiğim ağaçları her ziyaret ettiğimde daha çok büyüdüklerini görüyorum. Ancak bir tanesi var ki, tomurcuğunu bir futbol topu kırmıştı. O hiç büyüyemedi, hep güdük kaldı. Nitekim, şair burada aslında bizim, bize ait sandığımız; tetiklediğimizi sandığımız şeylerin bizden bağımsız olan realitesine ve bizden uzaklıklarına dikkat çekmek istemişse eğer; doğru. Onu her ne kadar ben dikmişsem de toprağa, onun dünyasında yokum ben. Belki bir titreşim, belki bir su serinliği hepsi bu. Zaman da böyle, uzak bizden; her ne kadar bize ait olduğunu sansak da.
".... Ne vardı evrende gerçekten?
Hiç. Yalnızca toplar. Onların çizdiği harika kavisler." (s.60)
İşte yine! Bizim evrende ne kadar küçük olduğumuzu, maddi varlığımızın ne kadar önemsiz olduğunu görüyoruz bir dizede daha. Eğer evrende ne va diye sorsaydık, ilk başta "hiç" derdik çünkü kozmosun çoğunu dolduran yaman, soğuk bir hiçlik, boşluktur. Ve sonra bir sürü toplar, ve onların çizdiği harika kavisler. Bizler bir kum tanesi bile değiliz. Bir atom sayılırız evrenin büyüklüğü karşısında.
Once I've processed this, I will write my review. I read this as part of Selected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, so this will not go into my challenge. But here I can review it in more detail.
For now enjoy a fitting painting I adore: "Orpheus in Hades" by Pierre Marcel-Beronneau.
Even as the farmer labors there where the seed turns into summer, it is not his work. It is Earth who gives.
Despite the parched ground it is but a shade of spring outside. The world appears geared to disrupt such edenic days with the distant rumble of foreign thunder and a blurred blunder on the button.
There were flashes here which I truly admired but not others. My hazed judgement might conceal a concern or two -- perhaps it doesn't. This series didn't engender thought so I'm moving on.
Silenzioso amico di molte lontananze, senti, come il tuo respiro ancor lo spazio accresce. nella tramatura d'oscuri ceppi di campana abbandonati e risuona. Ciò che ti consuma,
diventa forza per questo nutrimento. Nella metamorfosi entra ed esci. Qual è in te l'esperienza più dolente? Se ti è amaro il bere, diventa vino.
Sii in questa notte della dismisura magica forza all'incrocio dei tuoi sensi, senso del loro incontro strano.
E se terrestrità ti ha dimenticato, dì alla terra immota: io scorro. Alla rapida acqua parla: io sono.
Rilke's Sonnets to Orpheus were written, remarkably, in a few weeks in a kind creative overflow after finishing The Duino Elegies, a group of ten poems that took Rilke ten years to write. Hearing these poems in German is a memorable experience (even if you don't know the language). They are little technical masterpieces, with very strong rhythmic structures, and the rhyme of a classical (Petrarchian) sonnet. Of course, all the structure and form is lost in translation, but they still read remarkably well in English, largely because of the Rilke's imaginary. Over the years I've read many recent English translations, but, in the end, I still prefer the Herter Norton translation, which was first published in 1942. It is curious to me that in February of 1922, when Rilke was in in his little castle in Switzerland, finishing the Duino Elegies and writing the Sonnets to Orpheus, T. S. Eliot was a few miles away in a sanatorium, also in Switzerland, finishing The Waste Land. It make you believe that a very special poetic star was shining down on Switzerland that month. See my website: http://tiltyourhead.wordpress.com/
This book was bought for me on one of the most romantic and fulfilling evenings of my short life. Fresh from the Met's "Orfeo ed Euridice" wandering into a bookshop in the East Village, and returning home to a mind-gasm of reading aloud with someone I care dearly for. This collection is perfect for anyone who has loved or lost. "She slept the world..." This collection will continue to delight and haunt me for as long as I live.
"Nesta noite, sê de excesso força mágica na encruzilhada dos teus sentidos, do seu raro encontro o sentido.
E quando o elemento terrestre te houver esquecido, para a terra queda dirás: Eu corro. Para a água veloz falarás: Eu sou."
Livro maravilhoso... mas que, para mim, ficou um bocado obscurecido pelo facto de ter lido as Elegias do Duíno imediatamente antes (e que me esmagaram, com todo o seu peso de beleza, de dor, ainda as sinto na pele...).
Primeira incursão na poesia de Rainer. E não podia ter começado com melhor escolha. Lamento apenas não ter conhecimentos suficientes em alemão para ler no original, pois com a tradução perde-se sempre algo.
Para além de serem uma clara referência ao mito de Orfeu, também demonstram reflexões sobre o sentido da vida, da morte e ao tempo. Cada soneto oferece-nos imagens de extrema beleza. Deixo alguns das minhas estrofes preferidas.
The strange fruits of consolation, where do they ripen? In which garden, always watered and forever blessed? On which trees, From which cups of blossom delicately stripped bare of petals? These delicacies, Of which perhaps you may find one, in the crushed meadow grass,
Of your impoverishment. From one time to another You are surprised at the great size of the fruit, At your being redeemed, at the silkiness of the skin, And that the heedlessness of the birds and the jealousy of the worms below
Does time really exist, time the destroyer? When will it break down the castle into mere fragments? When will this heart which has always been in the service of the gods Be governed by the Creator, the Demiurge?
Are we really so desperately fragile As Fate would wish to make us? Is childhood, which is so deep, so full of promise, Later stilled at its root?
Of Nature, also just for a moment. For it was only when Orpheus sang That Nature awoke and heard, was quickened in alertness. Though far away in time, this stirred you. And you were somewhat Surprised that a tree considered so slowly and hesitated
combined rating clara (4 stars) and orpheus (2 stars) the romantics aren't everyone's cup of tea - i'll try reading orpheus some contemporary poetry next. any recommendations?
This book was savored, digested a few pages at a time during July and August of this summer's adventure on a bicycle bicycle across the eastern half of the country and the Transamerica Bicycle Trail. In the midst of this long journey, I found Rilke's poetry to be full of possibilities and challenges, making the book an ideal companion.
A veces me pierdo en la densísima lírica de Rilke, difícil de entender en español y casi imposible en aleman. Pero cuando me encuentro y entiendo algo... Y es que nadie como Rilke consigue sintetizar la belleza literaria con la profundidad filosófica. Merece la pena la lectura de este libro solo por aproximarse a su mensaje espiritual y a su visión casi animista del mundo y sobre todo por encontrarse con algunos de los sonetos más hermosos que se han escrito.
Standouts: • "Fat Apple, Banana, Gooseberry" (127) • "Mirrors" (161) • "Rose on Your Throne" (167) • "Flowers, Sisters" (169) • "All We Have Gained, The Machine Threatens" (175) • "Many Calmly Ordered Rules of Death" (177)
“Killing is a form of our wandering sorrow”
• "Where in What Blissful Watered Gardens" (189) • "My Heart, Sing About Gardens" (197) • "Does Time Destroyer" (209) • "Silent Friend of Many Distances" (213)
”Be in this night whose borders have no frame a magic force wherein your senses cross. Be meaning of their strange encounter. Go, and if the earthly fades and has forgot you, whisper to the silent earth: I flow. To the onrushing water say: I am.”
While I found some of these sonnets thought-provoking, they were mostly too obscure & difficult to understand for me. I appreciated the translator's notes and made extensive use of them but Rilke's philosophy about death was enigmatic. And the allusions to Orpheus and Eurydice were veiled to say the least!
I haven't stopped reading this book since I received it as a gift in the spring of 2006. Rilke is arguably the greatest poet of the 20th century. He confirms Holderlin's great words that poetry points to being itself.
A more literal, sparer translation than the Stephen Mitchell, good for students of German and, if less beautiful, truer to the succinctness of the original. Especially recommended is Sonnet #2, though there is plenty of heart-crushing material to be found here.
Oh, this is strange, passionate, poetry that is concerned with music, death,love, life, ecstacy--but trying to get at those things thru language. You have to read this before you die.