
“When we desire to confine our words, we commonly say they are spoken under the rose.”
Pseudodoxia Epidemica Book 5, Ch. 22, sect. 6
Rose, oh reiner Widerspruch, Lust,
Niemandes Schlaf zu sein unter soviel
Lidern.
Rilke wrote his own epitaph sometime before October 27, 1925. He requested that it be inscribed on his gravestone. This was fifteen months before his death. (Translation: John J.L.Mood)
Source: The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke
Rose, oh reiner Widerspruch, Lust, // Niemandes Schlaf zu sein unter soviel // Lidern.
Grabinschrift, testamentarisch festgelegt am 27. Oktober 1925. Nach: Joachim Wolff, Rilkes Grabschrift, Stiehm, Heidelberg 1983, S. 24, books.google.de https://books.google.de/books?hl=de&id=I003AAAAMAAJ&dq=Rose%2C+oh+reiner+Widerspruch%2C+Lust%2C+Niemandes+Schlaf+zu+sein+unter+soviel+Lidern.%22
Andere Werke
Variant: Rose, oh reiner Widerspruch, Lust,
Niemandes Schlaf zu sein unter soviel
Lidern.
Source: The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke
“When we desire to confine our words, we commonly say they are spoken under the rose.”
Pseudodoxia Epidemica Book 5, Ch. 22, sect. 6
“And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,
In blanched linen, smooth, and lavender’d.”
Stanza 30
Poems (1820), The Eve of St. Agnes
L’herbe de l’été pâlit sous le soleil.
La rose, expirant sous les âpres ravages
Des chaleurs, languit vers l’ombre, et le sommeil
Coule des feuillages.
La fraîcheur se glisse http://www.reneevivien.com/sapho.html#fraicheur (Coolness glides...), trans. Margaret Porter (1977)
Sapho http://www.reneevivien.com/sapho.html (1903)
1840s, Essays: First Series (1841), Self-Reliance
Context: These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God to-day. There is no time to them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower there is no more; in the leafless root there is no less. Its nature is satisfied, and it satisfies nature, in all moments alike. But man postpones or remembers; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past, or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to foresee the future. He cannot be happy and strong until he too lives with nature in the present, above time.
This should be plain enough. Yet see what strong intellects dare not yet hear God himself, unless he speak the phraseology of I know not what David, or Jeremiah, or Paul. We shall not always set so great a price on a few texts, on a few lives. We are like children who repeat by rote the sentences of grandames and tutors, and, as they grow older, of the men of talents and character they chance to see, —painfully recollecting the exact words they spoke; afterwards, when they come into the point of view which those had who uttered these sayings, they understand them, and are willing to let the words go; for, at any time, they can use words as good when occasion comes. If we live truly, we shall see truly. It is as easy for the strong man to be strong, as it is for the weak to be weak. When we have new perception, we shall gladly disburden the memory of its hoarded treasures as old rubbish. When a man lives with God, his voice shall be as sweet as the murmur of the brook and the rustle of the corn.
"Mi Ultimo Adios", st. 5
“Oh never star
Was lost here but it rose afar.”
Waring, ii.
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)