THE TORMENTS OF LOVE


Du musst das Leben nicht verstehen,
dann wird es werden wie ein Fest.

R.M. RILKE

as her hair
blew
there before my
eyes
as if suddenly I'd woken
for the first time
I saw
- and observed -
that lovely
young
girl

I was taken
by the harmony
of her movements
the lissomness
of her limbs
the fascination
of her gaze
the gentle rotundity
of her breasts
and more by all the charm
effused
by that
elegant
vernal
creature

and I straightaway reflected
- and "philosophised" -
my mind turned
to that innocent
who may at times
- I'm sure of it -
suffer
in torment
know unhappiness
in imagining that
the tender
the ethereal
the
little creature
has a mind
and soul

and his heart may bleed
despair
in attributing
even
a grain of intelligence
to that wholly
empty
little
head

Translated by David Connolly



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