Analysis of Growing Old
Rainer Maria Rilke 1875 (Prague) – 1926 (Montreux)
In some summers there is so much fruit,
the peasants decide not to reap any more.
Not having reaped you, oh my days,
my nights, have I let the slow flames
of your lovely produce fall into ashes?
My nights, my days, you have borne so much!
All your branches have retained the gesture
of that long labor you are rising from:
my days, my nights. Oh my rustic friends!
I look for what was so good for you.
Oh my lovely, half-dead trees,
could some equal sweetness still
stroke your leaves, open your calyx?
Ah, no more fruit! But one last time
bloom in fruitless blossoming
without planning, without reckoning,
as useless as the powers of millenia.
Translated by A. Poulin
Scheme | XXXXX XXXX XXXX XAAB B |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 011011111 0101111101 11011111 11111011 11100110110 111111111 1110101010 1111011101 111111101 111111111 1110111 1110101 11110110 11111111 1010100 011001100 110101011 0101001 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 659 |
Words | 124 |
Sentences | 11 |
Stanzas | 5 |
Stanza Lengths | 5, 4, 4, 4, 1 |
Lines Amount | 18 |
Letters per line (avg) | 29 |
Words per line (avg) | 7 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 104 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 24 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 17, 2023
- 37 sec read
- 242 Views
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"Growing Old" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 16 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/29677/growing-old>.
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