Herbsttag

Today I took down my hanging plants, which had been lightly nipped by frost this week, and swept the shady side of the deck. It is the beginning of clearing and straightening up the deck for winter.

Tonight we turn the clocks back, and now for a few months I will not see much of my deck and yard by daylight during the work week, only on weekends. I feel some melancholy about that but not an excessive amount. I will probably start seeing more light in February, and start thinking about and possibly buying (although it will be too early) new plants in March. Today I feel the value of a season of dormancy and darkness, although I may tire of it by next February.

Here is a good poem, originally written in German (below) and translated into English:

Autumn Day

Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.

Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now will not build one anymore.
Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long time,
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.

Translated by Galway Kinnell and Hannah Liebmann, "The Essential Rilke"

Herbsttag

Herr: es ist Zeit. Der Sommer war sehr gross.
Leg deinen Schatten auf die Sonnenuhren,
und auf den Fluren lass die Winde los.

Befiehl den letzten Fruchten voll zu sein;
gieb innen noch zwei sudlichere Tage,
drange sie zur Vollendung hin und jage
die letzte Susse in den schweren Wein.

Wer jetzt kein Haus hat, baut sich keines mehr.
Wer jetzt allein ist, wird es lange bleiben,
wird wachen, lesen, lange Briefe schreiben
und wird in den Alleen hin und her
unruhig wandern, wenn die Blatter treiben.

-- Rainer Maria Rilke, Paris, Sept. 21, 1902