They are assembled, astonished and disturbed
round him, who like a sage resolved his fate,
and now leaves those to whom he most belonged,
leaving and passing by them like a stranger.
The loneliness of old comes over him
which helped mature him for his deepest acts;
now will he once again walk through the olive grove,
and those who love him still will flee before his sight.

To this last supper he has summoned them,
and (like a shot that scatters birds from trees)
their hands draw back from reaching for the loaves
upon his word: they fly across to him;
they flutter, frightened, round the supper table
searching for an escape. But he is present
everywhere like an all-pervading twilight-hour. 



[On seeing Leonardo da Vinci's "Last Supper", Milan 1904.]

Added: on January 27th, 2005 at 12:10 PM | Viewed: 2634 times | Comments (1)

Poet: Rainer Maria Rilke
Poem: The Last Supper

Poem of the Day on:
Jan 27 2005

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