The Poet

Rainer Maria Rilke

 Next Poem          

O hour of my muse: why do you leave me,
Wounding me by the wingbeats of your flight?
Alone: what shall I use my mouth to utter?

How shall I pass my days? And how my nights?

I have no one to love. I have no home.
There is no center to sustain my life.
All things to which I give myself grow rich
and leave me spent, impoverished, alone.

Next Poem 

 Back to Rainer Maria Rilke
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.