Today's Poetry Friday post is courtesy of my agent, Tina Wexler. Not only does she do all the Super Agent stuff, like sell my books, read my drivel and suggest ways to make it not drivel, make me laugh, and ask after my family, she also has an MFA in Poetry. It's one of the reasons I chose her to represent me. Not to sell my poetry, but to have someone with a poetry-loving ear close by.
Yesterday, she sent me a notice from Shelf Awareness about a new North Point Press book of Rilke poems, a bilingual collection titled simply The Poetry of Rilke. This was the accompanying poem, from the book:
by Rainer Maria Rilke,
translated by Edward Snow
Lord: it is time. Your summer was superb.
Lay your shadows on the sundials,
and in the meadows let the winds go free.
Command the last fruits to be full;
give them only two more southern days,
urge them on to completion and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.
Whoever has no house will never build one now.
Whoever is alone now will long remain so,
will stay awake, read books, write long letters
and wander restless back and forth
along the tree-lined streets, as the leaves drift down.
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Anastasia Suen at Picture Book of the Day.