Autumn Day

Lord, it is time. The summer was enormous. Lay your shadows on the sundials, and over the meadows let the winds go free. Charge the last fruits into heaviness.

Give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.

Who has no house now, will build none.
Who is alone now, will stay alone,
will wake and read, and write long letters,
long letters through the beloved.

—Rainer Maria Rilke

• Rainer Maria Rilke