The image of a man, a thought that I, the other, cannot imagine from its trivial aspect，I think of words that I record time and thought. If I could understand every casual look, the light that comes through the window, the changing emotions, I would feel happy. So I realize what I think is beautiful and what it means to be born. I love everything I love. I hate it, but I love it.
Chris Kyogetu
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Rilke’s “My darling”, Das ist mein Fenster, “This is my window”, starts with the inevitable awakening of her inner self and a look at the unconscious exterior. This is Eben bin ich so sanft erwacht… “I just woke up”, a gentle, relaxing moment, like a sprinkling of white powder.
“In the day-to-day life of a person like the window, “Bis wohin reicht mein Leben” (Where will my life reach?), and the eternity of the night and the universe, and the dream.
Ich könnte meinen, alleswäre noch Ich ringsum; (I feel that everything around me is still me), and thus loses the frontier between the interior and the exterior. Is both a bond and an obstacle to the outer world in this poem? She’s falling for him. and across the side world whereas his feelings and awareness of him as “objectivity from outside the window” But this is her reflection. Her existence is “inside” the window. Whether expectant or anxious, the waking ‘now’ is simply her being inside the open window.
I don’t know the details of the “I” relationship with that other person, but the fact that the other person is in my heart means that my beloved is not a quiet presence standing in the depths of my consciousness. My analysis of the poem is that it is a window on the outside world, without any intervention or controller (e.g. God) between ‘me’ and the ‘loved one’.
The original reality is the margin in which the poem ends. The world of empty margins, where nothing is written, exists for the poet independent of his own spirit, and when the poet enters into the spirit of a person, It means it changes the reader’s vison. If the window becomes special as of this day, it is a success.
It is beautiful to see the interior growth and the interior finesse.
I believe that a beautiful poem is beautiful, even in its borders.
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The Lover
That is my window. A moment ago
I woke up so softly.
I thought I would float.
To where does my life extend,
and where does the night begin?
I could think that everything
were still me all around;
translucent as a crystal’s
depths, darkened, dumb.
I could also contain the stars
inside me still; so large
does my heart appear to me; so gladly
it released him away again
whom I began perhaps to love,
perhaps began to hold.
Strange, as something never-described
my fate looks at me.
For what am I laid under this
unendingness,
fragrant as a meadow,
moved here and there,
calling out at the same time and afraid
that someone will hear the call,
and determined to find my downfall
in another.
R. M. Rilke
Die Liebende （ Rainer Maria Rilke ) 訳・Chris
Das ist mein Fenster. Ebenbin ich so sanft erwacht.
Ich dachte, ich würde schweben.
Bis wohin reicht mein Leben,und wo beginnt die Nacht?
Ich könnte meinen, alleswäre noch Ich ringsum;
durchsichtig wie eines Kristalles Tiefe, verdunkelt, stumm.
Ich könnte auch noch die Sterne fassen in mir, so groß
scheint mir mein Herz; so gerne ließ es ihn wieder los
den ich vielleicht zu lieben,vielleicht zu halten begann.
Fremd, wie niebeschrieben sieht mich mein Schicksal an.
Was bin ich unter diese Unendlichkeit gelegt,
duftend wie eine Wiese, hin und her bewegt,
rufend zugleich und bange, daß einer den Ruf vernimmt,
und zum Untergange in einem Andern bestimmt.
full version (Japanese)
