POEM BY RAINER MARIA RILKE
Autumn - Painting by John Joseph Enneking
Lord: it is time. Great was the heat. Cast your shadow on the sundials, unleashes the wind over the plain. Let the ultimate fruit be full again; grant one more day of warmth, let the fruit ripen and squeeze in the grave wine the last flavor. Who has no home now, will not have it, who is alone for a long time will have to stay, reading in vigils, and long sheets to write, and uncertain which way to return where the leaves float in the air.