(original review, 2009)

Da neigt sich die Stunde und rührt mich an
mit klarem, metallenem Schlag:
mir zittern die Sinne. Ich fühle: ich kann -
und ich fasse den plastischen Tag.

Nichts war noch vollendet, eh ich es erschaut,
ein jedes Werden stand still.
Meine Blicke sind reif, und wie eine Braut
kommt jedem das Ding, das er will.

Nichts ist mir zu klein, und ich lieb es trotzdem
und mal es auf Goldgrund und groß
und halte es hoch, und ich weiß nicht wem
löst es die Seele los...

In “Stundenbuch” von Rainer Maria Rilke.

Sometimes I get locked in, to a particular mood, memory, thought cycle or reverie. Like a fevered dream that immediately disappears upon on waking, but leaves you with the rush and noise and colour of fast motion. "Stundenbuch" is that fevered dream, and sometimes I need to be locked in, but not as often as I would need to read "Das Buch vom Mönchsichen Leben", or "Das Buch von der Pilgerschaft", or "Das Buch von der Armut und vom Tode", all of them in their entirety, or "Ich bin, du Ängstlicher", or the snare shot kick that opens "Nachwächter ist der Wahnsinn, weil er wacht", or the dense angst driven darkness of "Ich bin nur einer deiner Ganzgeringen, der in das leben aus der Zelle sieht", or a thousand other moments I could easily pick. These are words, driving to an unheard rhythm, fragments of thought-poems, miscellaneous advice and scenes from dark imagings. I used to have an old tattered copy given to me by a German girlfriend almost 30 years ago, and either me or she (my memory can't reveal who) underlined certain phrases or key lines that seemed to have some greater importance than others. Reading through this now (getting past the sudden thought that books might be one of the very few things in our lives that we can touch and hold and reconnect back physically 30 years) it strikes me that we could have underlined almost anything at random. Maybe we did. There's no significance here, and I'm not sure there ever was meant to be. But if a book of heightened poetry by an incredible poet can lock me into a wonderful moment, than that surely is significance enough.

One of the books of my life.

NB: This is the bilingual edition I bought a few years later because the original edition, in German, vanished in the mists of time... ( )

Very fine translations!

I sought this out because of a Times review where nothing was actually said about the new translations. Rather, its focus was on the biography--especially his relations with women. Excerpt from review:

Rilke’s diaries from this period dwell at some length on the effect he has on others. In the artists’ colony in Worpswede, in Lower Saxony, where he was staying in 1899, for example, he reports how he read poems about the Annunciation and the Last Judgement “with the lustre that characterises my voice”. Verses removed from his diary but later published in The Book of Images (Buch der Bilder, 1902) begin “Whoever now is weeping somewhere in the world, / weeping without reason in the world, / is weeping about me” – or, in the next stanza, laughing at him.

First of all, I have to clarify: I'm not a student of the English language or poetry, so my feelings for these poems, like most of us, are truly from my personal perspective. From the those poems that we all had to read in school, and the few that I occasional encounter here or there, I have never been affected as deeply as the writing of Rainer Maria Rilke. Since Rilke wrote in German, it's a wonder how English translations of his works still affect me so deeply and effortlessly.

This edition celebrates the 100th anniversary of the release of this 135 poems by Rilke to the public, by the Insel Verlag of Leipzig. These poems Rilke viewed as private and as intimate as his prayers to God, and they also represent his true poetic legacy. That was why they were not originally released to the public. Rilke was only 23 years old when he started writing the poems in this collection. He had already published three volumes of other poems prior. Although I do not know German, the translation of these poems by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy appeared and sounded perfect to me when I read each and all poems over and over again. Someday I'll read another translation of the same title to compare the accuracy and wording but at the mean time, this is truly a 5-star book. Also, do not let the title deter you...These poems do have the same resonance on your heart and soul whether if you are religious or not.

"You, my own deep soul,
trust me. I will not betray you.
My blood is alive with many voices
telling me I am made of longing.

What mystery breaks over me now?
In its shadow I come into life.
For the first time I am alone with you-

You, my power to feel."

( )

Absolutely beautiful collection! Includes the original German as well as Barrows/Macy's unique and lovely English translations. My only "complaint" is that it doesn't include all of the poems (though most are there). The commentaries at the beginning and end discuss how the translations came about and other translator decisions. Inspiring collection! ( )

Love ripens us whether we are walking the paths of human loves or the paths that include the love of the divine. This set of poems has become a classic to readers among both the religious and the non-religious who would open their hearts to embrace the unknown gifts of life and love's ripening. I personally find this translation wonderful. I don't speak or read German so I can't say that this translation is a more accurate one or not. What I can say is that among the several different translations I own, this one engages my heart in ways the others did not. ( )