|It is wet and chilly outside and the last of the leaves are ready to fall -- just perfect for a melancholy autumn poem.
by Rainer Maria Rilke
translated by Scott Stewart
"It is time, Lord.
Summer was grand.
Now lay your shadow on the day,
and bathe your fields in the wind.
Let the late harvest linger.
Give it two more southern days.
Make it full and bring her
final sweetness into those heavy vines.
If you have no house now, you never will have one.
If you are alone now, you will always live alone,
Reading late in the fading light. Writing letters with no end.
Wandering dark alleys. Restless and uneasy. A leaf on the wind."
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