...except for me and my monkey! "Everything we see hides another thing. We always want to see what is hidden by what we see." -Rene Magritte

Monday, February 14, 2005

It's a Rilke kind of day

The First Elegy from Duino Elegies, by Rainier Maria Rilke

And if I cried, who'd listen to me in those angelic
orders? Even if one of them suddenly held me
to his heart, I'd vanish in his overwhelming
presence. Because beauty's nothing
but the start of terror we can heardly bear,
and we adore it because of the serene scorn
it could kill us with. Every angel's terrifying.

So I control myself and choke back the lure
of my dark cry. Ah, who can we turn to,
then? Neither angels nor men,
and the animals already know by instict
we're not comfortably at home
in our translated world. Maybe what's left
for us is some tree on a hillside we can look at
day after day, one of yesterday's streets,
and the perverse affection of a habit
that liked us so much it never let go.

And the night, oh the night when the wind
full of outer space gnaws at our faces; that wished for,
gentle, deceptive one waiting painfully for the lonely
heart--she'd stay on for anyone. Is she easier on lovers?
But they use each other to hide their fate.

You
still don't understand? Throw the emptiness in
your arms out into that space we breathe; maybe birds
will feel the air thinning as they fly deeper into themselves.


I would be lying if I said I weren't depressed this evening. I thought that I wouldn't be--that I shouldn't be, that I'm lucky to have good friends and people who care about me and a family that loves me and to be healthy and relatively happy and that Valentine's Day was just commercialized by the greeting card companies and the candy manufacturers and Damn The Man! But. Here I sit, crying just a little bit and reading Rilke and listening to Janis Joplin's I Got Dem Ol' Kozmic Blues Again, Mama!

I'm okay.

I will be okay.