Day in Autumn
After the summer's yield, Lord, it is time
to let your shadow lengthen on the sundials
and in the pastures let the rough winds fly.
As for the final fruits, coax them to roundness.
Direct on them two days of warmer light
to hale them golden toward their term, and harry
the last few drops of sweetness through the wine.
Whoever's homeless now, will build no shelter;
who lives alone will live indefinitely so,
waking up to read a little, draft long letters,
and, along the city's avenues,
fitfully wander, when the wild leaves loosen.
Notes
Where Wisława Szymborska embraced the irreconcilable transience of life by declaring that no single hour or gesture can ever repeat its entrance, Rainer Maria Rilke commands the late summer sun to finish ripening the final grapes, standing at the precipice where warmth surrenders to the long, unhoused silence of approaching cold. The solitary subject confronts the terror of temporal finality, discovering that when the protective shelter of the collective harvest withdraws, consciousness is forced to endure its own radical isolation, condemned to wander the empty avenue back and forth as the dry leaves drift down in endless, indifferent loops. It carries September’s theme of Echo into the solemn transition of the season, reminding us that every departure leaves an unheeded resonance behind, where the quiet pacing of the solitary walker echoes through the cold chambers of what could not be preserved. #September #RainerMariaRilke #Echo #Time #Life