The leaves are falling, falling as from far,
As if far gardens in the skies were dying;
They fall, and never seem to be denying.And in the night the earth, a heavy ball,
Into a starless solitude must fall.
We all are falling.My own hand no less
Than all things else; behold, it is in all.
Yet there is One who, utter gentleness,Holds all this falling in
His hands to bless.
Below is the original German text for those of you who can understand it, and for those of you (like me) who can’t, but who would like to read it to catch a glimmer of Rilke’s original music.
Continue reading ‘Autumn’ by Rainer Maria Rilke