Casa din marginea acestui sat mǎrunt
e tot aşa de singurǎ ca ultima din lume.
Drumul, care-n acest cǎtun doar drum e,
se duce mai departe, încet, în noapte-afund.
Satul mǎrunt e doar o trecere legând
neştiutor, stingher, lungi douǎ depǎrtǎri,
de-a lungul unor case un drum în loc de-o punte.
Şi cei ce pleacǎ din cǎtun se duc în zǎri de zǎri,
şi mulţi pier poate astfel, drum dupǎ drum, bǎtând.
(Rainer Maria Rilke, Îngânare de somn)
–
The last house of this village stands
as alone as if it were the last house in the world.
The road, that the little village cannot hold,
moves on slowly out into the night.
The little village is but a place of transition,
expectant and afraid, between two vast distances,
a passageway along houses instead of a bridge.
And those who leave the village may wander
a long time, and many may die perhaps
along the way.
(Rainer Maria Rilke, from „The Book of Hours”. Tr. Cliff Crego)