Index of Titles and First Lines in English
The index that appeared in the print version of this title does not match the pages in your eBook. Please use the search function on your eReading device to search for terms of interest. For your reference, the terms that appear in the print index are listed below.
Abandoned on the mountains of the heart. Look, how small there
ABISHAG (II)
ABOUT FOUNTAINS
Again and again, even though we know love’s landscape
Again the woods smell sweet
A god can do it. But how, will you tell me, could
Ah, adrift in the air
Ah, could we escape counters and strikers of hours
Ah, not to be cut off
Ah, women, that you are here on earth, that you
ALCESTIS
All of that stood on her and was the world
All right: just one second more
All that we’ve gained the machine threatens, as long
Almost as on the last day when the dead will tear themselves
Already the city no longer drifts
Already the red barberries are ripening
Always I marvel at you, blessed ones, —at your demeanor
And again my deep life rushes louder
And almost a girl it was and came forth
And here is Death, a bluish distillate
And night and distant travel; for the train
And you wait, you wait for that one thing
ANGELS, THE
ANTISTROPHES
APPREHENSION
ARCHAIC TORSO OF APOLLO
Are not stars almost in your vicinity
ASHANTI, THE
As if escaping the creatures of a dream
As if he listened. Stillness: something distant …
As in the hand a sulfur match flares white
As long as you catch self-thrown things
As once the winged energy of delight
As one stirs spices in a soporific
Assault me, music, with rhythmic fury!
As sometimes between still leafless branches
A tree arose. O pure transcendence!
AUTUMN
AUTUMN DAY
Avoided by the early autumn morning
Be in advance of all parting, as if it were
BEETLE STONE, THE
BEFORE SUMMER RAIN
Behold: (for no tree shall distract you)
Behold the flowers, those true to the earthly
Between the stars, such distances; and yet how much vaster
BIRTH OF VENUS
BLACK CAT
BLUE HYDRANGEA
BOWL OF ROSES, THE
BOY, THE
Breathing, you invisible poem!
Brother body is poor …: then we’ll have to be rich for him
BUDDHA
BUDDHA
BUDDHA IN GLORY
But tell me, who are they, these wanderers
But what, Master, might I dedicate to you
But what prevents us from believing
But you, divine one, intoning to the very end
But you now, O stolen one, whom I knew
Call me to that one among your hours
CAPITAL, THE
CAROUSEL, THE
Center of all centers, core of cores
CHILDHOOD
CHRIST’S DESCENT INTO HELL
Come, you last thing, which I acknowledge
CORPSE-WASHING
COURTESAN, THE
DEATH
DEATH EXPERIENCED
DEATH OF MOSES, THE
Deepest down: the age-old
Does it really exist, Time the Destroyer?
DONOR, THE
Don’t boast, you men of justice, that the rack is obsolescent
Do you still remember: falling stars
Dream in the eyes. The brow as if in touch
DUINO ELEGIES
THE FIRST ELEGY
THE SECOND ELEGY
THE THIRD ELEGY
THE FOURTH ELEGY
THE FIFTH ELEGY
THE SIXTH ELEGY
THE SEVENTH ELEGY
THE EIGHTH ELEGY
THE NINTH ELEGY
THE TENTH ELEGY
EARLY APOLLO
EARLY SPRING
ELEGY
Enchanted one: how shall the harmony
ENTRANCE
Erect no monument. Allow the rose
Even a ghost is like a place
Even from afar the awestruck foreign
EVENING
EVENING IN SKÅNE
Every Angel is terrifying. And yet, alas
Exiting the cluttered city, which would rather
FADED
Finally suffered out, his being exited the terrible
First a childhood, boundless and without
FLAMINGOS, THE
Flower-muscle, slowly pulling open
FOREIGN FAMILY
Forget, forget, and let us live now
FOR HANS CAROSSA
FRAGMENTS FROM LOST DAYS
FROM AN APRIL
FROM CHILDHOOD
From this cloud—look: that so wildly covers
FULL POWER
FUNERAL MONUMENT OF A YOUNG GIRL
GAZELLE, THE
God or goddess of the sleep of cats
God talks to each of us as he creates us
God won’t be lived like some light morning
GOING BLIND
GONG (I)
GONG (II)
GREAT NIGHT, THE
GROUP, THE
GROWNUP, THE
Hail to the spririt that can connect us
HAND, THE
Hand’s secret self. Sole, that has ceased to walk
Harshness vanished. Suddenly caring
He had long prevailed through gazing
His gaze has from the passing of the bars
How at the very last, in an instant
How I have felt the shape that parting takes
How it stands out against the darkenings
How shall I keep my soul
How the cry of a bird can move us …
How they’re all around us, these gentlemen
HUMAN BEINGS AT NIGHT
I am nobody and I’ll be nobody
I am the lute. Should you wish to describe
I am, you anxious one. Don’t you hear me
I’d like to sing someone to sleep
IDOL
If I’d grown up in a different land
I go always from door to door
I have many brothers who wear light cassocks
I held myself too open, I forgot
I, knower: possesing the secrets
I live at the very edge of the century
I live my life in widening circles
IMAGINARY CAREER
I’m blind, you out there: that’s a curse
I’m like a flag surrounded by distances
I’m like one who’s traveled foreign oceans
In all these things toward which I feel
In my hair the sun of Venice will
In the deep nights I dig for you, you treasure
IN THE DRAWING ROOM
In the faded forest is a birdcall
In the morning after that night which fearfully
In there: the lazy pacing of their paws
In this Interior, which curves and arches
I read it in your word, learn it from the story
Is he native to this realm? No
It’s as if I’m pushing through massive mountains
It’s one thing to sing the loved one; another, alas
I want to be like one of those
It wasn’t in me. It went out and in
JUDITH’S RETURN
Just as the king out on a hunt picks up
Just as the master’s true stroke is sometimes
LACHRYMATORY
LAMENT
LANDSCAPE
LAST EVENING
LATE AUTUMN IN VENICE
LEDA
Life was good to me in the beginning
Lightly, as after her death
… Like birds that get used to walking
Like someone lying down he stands erect
Like someone swiftly making a bouquet
Listen: already you can hear the first hoes
Look, I’m one of those whom everything has abandoned
Looking up from my book, from the close countable lines
Lord: it is time. Your summer was superb
Losing is also ours; and even forgetting
LOVE SONG
LULLABY
LUTE, THE
Many calmly weighed rules entered Death’s canon
Master, do you hear the New
MEMORY
Mirrors: no one who’s tried to solve you
MOONLIT NIGHT
MORGUE
Music: breathing of statues. Maybe
My life is not this steep hour
My room and this vastness
My soul may be straight and good
NEIGHBOR, THE
NIGHT DRIVE
Nights are not made for the masses
Night, silent night, into which are woven
No longer, voice. No longer let wooing shape your cry
No: my heart shall be a tower
None of them, only the dark, fallen angel
Not till that day when flight
No vision of lush, far-off countries
Now it is time that gods stepped out
Now the hour bends down and touches me
Now the stag becomes part of the earth. Lifts and holds
Now we wake with our memory
O come and go. You, still almost a child
O dancer: your steps translating
Off in the garden blooms the evil sleep
O fig tree, how long I’ve pondered you—
O fountain mouth, you giving one, you lips
O how far away and long gone
O in spite of Fate: the magnificent overflows
O Lord, give us each our own death. Grant us
Once I stared at you, stood at the window begun yesterday
Once I took your face into
Once long ago somewhere you freed him
One day, at the end of the nightmare of knowing
ONE OF THE OLD ONES
Only he who has also raised
Only in the realm of Praise may Lament
ON THE EDGE OF NIGHT
OPIUM POPPY
ORPHEUS. EURYDICE. HERMES
O the curves of my longing through the cosmos
O the losses into the All, Marina, the falling stars!
Others carry the wine, others carry the oil
O this delight, ever new, born of loosened clay
O this is the animal that does not exist
O trees of life, how long till winter?
O you few, playmates of a former childhood
O you many unassaulted cities
O you tender ones, step now and then
PALM OF THE HAND
PANTHER, THE
PARROT PARK
PARTING
Path through the garden, deep as a long drink
PIANO PRACTICE
POET, THE
PONT DU CARROUSEL
PORTRAIT OF MY FATHER AS A YOUNG MAN
Praising, that’s it! One appointed to praise
PRAYER
PRESENTIMENT
PROGRESS
Put my eyes out: I can see you
QUAI DU ROSAIRE
RAISING OF LAZARUS, THE
Ripe apple, blackberry and banana
ROMAN CAMPAGNA
ROMAN FOUNTAIN
ROMAN SARCOPHAGI
Rose, enthroned there, for the ancients
ROSE INTERIOR, THE
Rose, O pure contradiction, delight
ROSE WINDOW, THE
SAINT SEBASTIAN
SAN MARCO
Scan the sky. Is no constellation named “Horseman”?
School’s long anxiety and time slips by
See the little titmouse
Seldom does a shadow of damp decay
SELF-PORTRAIT FROM THE YEAR 1906
Shall we renounce our age-old friendship
She sat just like the others having tea
Silent friend of the many distances
Sing the gardens, my heart, those you never knew; gardens
SITE OF THE FIRE, THE
Sleepers, the damp on my feet is black still, indistinct. Dew, they say. / Ah
Slowly the evening puts on the clothes
SNAKE-CHARMING
SOLITARY, THE
SOLITARY, THE
SOLITUDE
Solitude is like a rain
Someday if I lose you
Sometimes at evening (do you know how it feels?)
Somewhere gold dwells in an indulgent bank
Somewhere the flower of farewell blooms and ceaselessly
Sound, no longer measurable
SPANISH DANCER
SPANISH TRILOGY, THE
SPIRIT ARIEL, THE
Spring has come again. The earth
Straining so hard against the strength of the night
Strange violin, do you follow me?
Such Fragonard-like reflections
Suddenly from all the green in the park
Suddenly I know so much about fountains
Suddenly she steps, sheathed in the wind
SUNDIAL, THE
SWAN, THE
Tears, tears that break out of me
That time, when drawn by the sleek trotters
That was the commission to the painter’s guild
The birdcalls start their praise
The blind man standing on the bridge
The darkening was like treasures in the room
The king sat thinking through the empty day
The leaves are falling, falling as from far away
Then suddenly the messenger was with them
The old long-noble family’s
The park is high. And as out of a house
The rich and the lucky can afford to be silent
These leaves are like the last green
The streets move forward with a gentle gait
The summer drones. The afternoon drags on
The transformed speaks only to relinquishers. All
The way that bright planet, the moon, exalted, full of purpose
The way the dust—which begins somehow
They all have tired mouths
They don’t watch me. They let me go
They had gotten used to him. But when
They lie here ready, as if still waiting
They lie in their long hair, with brown faces
This heaviness, toiling on as if in bonds
This was the souls’ strange mine
Though the world change swiftly
To have come through it: to have joyfully
[TO LOU ANDREAS-SALOMÉ]
TOMBS OF THE HETAERAE
TO MUSIC
Torn open by us again and again
TO SAY BEFORE GOING TO SLEEP
TURNING
Two basins, one rising from the other
Under blossoming Turkish lindens, at the grass’s edge
Undeterrable, I’ll complete this course
Unknown before the heavens of my life
Unsteady scales of life
VENETIAN MORNING
VOICES, THE
TITLE LEAF
THE BEGGAR’S SONG
THE BLIND MAN’S SONG
THE DRUNKARD’S SONG
THE SUICIDE’S SONG
THE WIDOW’S SONG
THE IDIOT’S SONG
THE ORPHAN GIRL’S SONG
THE DWARF’S SONG
THE LEPER’S SONG
Wait…, this taste … Already it’s escaping
We don’t know what we spend
We drive and are driven
We, in the grappling nights
We keep remembering. It’s as though
We know nothing of this going hence
We never knew his head and all the light
We puzzle over flower, vine-leaf, fruit
We’re only mouth. Who sings the distant heart
What birds dive through is not the intimate space
What will you do, God, when I die?
When the charmer, swaying in the market
When the god in his great need entered it
… When will, when will, when will it be enough
Where, in what ever-blissfully watered gardens, on what
Where is there an outside
Whoever you are: in the evening step
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the Angels’
Why, when this span of life might be spent
WILD ROSEBUSH
Will transformation. O be ravenous for the fire
Windows pampered like princes behold always
With a canopy and its shade it turns
With all its eyes the animal world
WOMAN AT A BALCONY
WOMAN AT HER MIRROR
WOMAN’S FATE, A
WORDS OF THE LORD TO JOHN ON PATMOS, THE
World was in the face of the beloved—
Yes, it was necessary for the rabble
You don’t know nights of love? No
You flowers, akin, finally, to the arranging hands
You mustn’t worry, God. They say mine
You must suffer long, not knowing what
You, my friend, are alone, because …
You, neighbor God, if sometimes in the long night
You’re withdrawing from me, hour
Your first word was: Light:
You, the loved one lost
You’ve seen caged anger flare, seen two boys
You, who have never left my feelings