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Rainer Maria Rilke · Poems

Poem 4 of 51 · Book I

Autumn

— ✻ —

The leaves fall, fall as from far,
Like distant gardens withered in the heavens;
They fall with slow and lingering descent.

And in the nights the heavy Earth, too, falls
From out the stars into the Solitude.

Thus all doth fall. This hand of mine must fall
And lo! the other one:--it is the law.
But there is One who holds this falling
Infinitely softly in His hands.

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