R. M. Rilke - The Panther | Текст песни

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• R. M. Rilke
• The Panther

His gaze from staring through the
bars has grown so weary that it
can take in nothing more . . .
For him it is as though there
were a thousand bars, and behind
the thousand bars, no world
As he paces in cramped circles,
over and over, his powerful
strides are like a ritual dance
around a center where a great will
stands paralyzed
At times the curtains of the eye
lift without a sound
and a shape enters, slips
through the tightened silence of
the shoulders, reaches the heart
and dies


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