Sunday Poem

Autumn

Time now, Lord.  Summer was great,
but lay your shadow on the sundials,
free your winds over the open fields.

Bid the late fruit – Be Full. Give them
two more southerly days. Complete them,
make the wine heavy with last sweetness.

The one who has no house now, will
have no house. The one who is alone now,
will remain alone, lie awake, read,
write long letters, or wandering, blow
about the streets like the fallen leaves.

Poem, Herbsttag, by Rainer Maria Rilke
translation:  Nils Peterson