#Ranier Marie Rilke

[sandmoonyelse]

With your eyes, you slowly raise a black tree and you place it against the sky: slender, alone...

R.M. Rilke

[woundgallery]

[literatureandtrees]

You are not too old

and it is not too late

to dive into your increasing depths

where life calmly gives out

its own secret.

[la-semillera]

La escritora francesa Hélène Cixous declaró que Clarice Lispector era lo que Kafka habría sido de ser mujer, o «si Rilke hubiera sido un judío brasileño nacido en Ucrania. Si Rimbaud hubiera sido madre, si hubiera alcanzado los cincuenta. Si Heidegger hubiera podido dejar de ser alemán». Los intentos para describir a esta mujer indescriptible a menudo siguen esta línea, apoyándose en superlativos, aunque los que la conocían, bien en persona o por sus libros, también insisten en que el aspecto más llamativo de su personalidad, su aura de misterio, escapa a la descripción. Cuando murió, el poeta Drummond de Andrade escribió: «Clarice procedía de un misterio / y regresó a otro» . Su aire indescifrable fascinaba y desasosegaba a todo el que la conocía.

Después de su muerte, un amigo escribió que «Clarice era una extraña sobre la tierra, atravesando el mundo como si hubiera llegado a altas horas de la noche a una ciudad desconocida entre una huelga general de transporte» .    

- Benjamin Moser, Por qué este mundo Una biografía de Clarice Lispector. Siruela. Traducción del inglés de Cristina Sánchez-Andrade  

[peach-tea-leaves]

On Self-Destruction.

Excerpt from Rainer Maria Rilke’s Selected Letters / Unknown Title by Nicola Samori / Excerpt from “The Girls” by Emma Cline / “Lucretia” by Rembrandt / “Perfume” by San Fermin / “Volta Del Mondo” by Nicola Samori / “Third Eye” by Florence + The Machine / “The Fall of Icarus” by Jacob Peter Gowy / Excerpt from “The Comeback” by Ella Berman / “Ophelia” by John Everett Millais / Excerpt from “The Pisces” by Melissa Broder

[rememberdamage]

“And if the world has ceased to hear you,

say to the silent earth: I flow.

To the rushing water, speak: I am.”

Ranier Maria Rilke, Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower

[riverbird]

"You who never arrived in my arms, Beloved, who were lost from the start,  I don’t even know what songs would please you. I have given up trying to recognize you in the surging wave of the next moment. All the immense images in me; the far-off, deeply-felt landscape, cities, towers, and bridges, and unsuspected turns in the path,  and those powerful lands that were once pulsing with the life of the gods; all rise within me to mean you, who forever elude me.  You, Beloved, who are all the gardens I have ever gazed at,  longing. An open window in a country house; and you almost stepped out, pensive, to meet me. Streets that I chanced upon;  you had just walked down them and vanished.  And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors were still dizzy with your presence and,  startled, gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows? Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, separate, in the evening." Rainer Maria Rilke, You Who Never Arrived, trans. Stephen Mitchell

[aoifuh]

Ein schönes Gedicht von Rilke.

[dysphoresque]

— Ranier Maria Rilke, The Prodigal Son

[iviaggisulcomo]

"Noi ci tocchiamo. Con le lontananze stesse noi ci tocchiamo."

R.M. Rilke

[popjunkie42]

Sept 1

Rainer Maria Rilke

Autumn Day

[estellamila]

Geceye bir tokat bırakıp kaçıyorum sanal zonzilerim. Şimdi bu satırlardan yola çıkarak kafamda sahte bir hikâye yazıp uykuya dalacağım. Neden mi? Çünkü uyku öncesi kitap okumak bana artık yetmez bir tane de kendi kafamda yazmalıyım djfjekdks

İyi uykular hepinize 🌝

[pagodadrop]

[kinkymjolnir]

Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.

by rilke

[gothpretentious]

Ranier Maria Rilke (English tr. Stephen Mitchell)

[blnkverse]