Читать книгу Albrecht Dürer and me - David Zieroth - Страница 13

in Duino

narrow roads off the autobahn

offer tour buses no place to park

should passengers want

to see where Rilke slept

Princess della Torre e Tasso’s gilded

family portraits of past aristocrats

staring down, uncomprehending

I step onto a balcony overlooking

the Gulf of Trieste, notice no angels

though commercial oyster beds

at the mouth of the Isonzo River

provide a symmetry the poet

may have admired from his cliff path

I am thinking a trace of gravitas

might remain on this stone

balustrade he may have touched

(or pounded) and where

in three languages is written

on its limestone lip the command

not to lean over, which I heed

Apollo beams down to warm

my thoughts again, so once more

I wonder how the poet saw from here

‘wind full of cosmic space’

what remains for me white cliffs

and blue sea, curve of the gulf

and sunlight calling one wave

to appear just as another dips and

disappears without any ‘endlessly

anxious hands’ framing

what cannot so easily pass away