II
I write this from a bus. The light fades abruptly between the warmth inside the cabin and the bulbs in the street. All sound is layered between the grounded hum of the engine and the bursts of rain and wind hitting the roof. The air is moist and clings to the windows. There are a dozen of passengers at most. There is a red clock alternating between the time and the temperature. Every hour it gets a degree colder.
III
I’ve arrived to this time of the year with a great sense of nostalgia. It’s also a time of great changes. It so happens that in Spain, those changes are dramatic, with little time to enjoy the tenderness of the breeze, and the embrace of summertime’s end.
IV
Much you did hide from him thus: in the awful night
you rid his room of fear and from the refuge
of your heart took out a comfroting breath,
filling with human shape his empty night.
- Reiner Maria Rilke - Third Elegie, Duino Elegies, 1923
I write this from a bus. The light fades abruptly between the warmth inside the cabin and the bulbs in the street. All sound is layered between the grounded hum of the engine and the bursts of rain and wind hitting the roof. The air is moist and clings to the windows. There are a dozen of passengers at most. There is a red clock alternating between the time and the temperature. Every hour it gets a degree colder.
III
I’ve arrived to this time of the year with a great sense of nostalgia. It’s also a time of great changes. It so happens that in Spain, those changes are dramatic, with little time to enjoy the tenderness of the breeze, and the embrace of summertime’s end.
IV
Much you did hide from him thus: in the awful night
you rid his room of fear and from the refuge
of your heart took out a comfroting breath,
filling with human shape his empty night.
- Reiner Maria Rilke - Third Elegie, Duino Elegies, 1923
V