Autumn Day

Lord: it is time. The summer was immense. Lay your shadows on the sundials, And on the meadows, let the winds descend.

Order the last fruits to be full; Give them another two southern days, Press them to ripen, and let them be full, In the final sweetness towards their last wine.

Who has no house now, will build none. Who is alone now, will stay alone. But there are places in the distant fields, And here, where trees are growing, we see, Fruits that cannot be gathered too fast, As they sway in the breeze; Lush and old leaves shall fill the air, Let them fall, give them lightness.

And let your spirit rest on the softest of places— A world not purely separately made, But an exchange between darkness and brightness.

• Rainer Maria Rilke