The poem
O hour of my muse: why do you leave me, Wounding me by the wingbeats of your flight? Alone: what shall I use my mouth to utter?
How shall I pass my days? And how my nights?
I have no one to love. I have no home. There is no center to sustain my life. All things to which I give myself grow rich and leave me spent, impoverished, alone.
Well, this poem it is a very beautiful poem, full of feeling , full of emotion , always of agreement with Rilke's behavior! The sadness that there is in whole work, the bad sensation of solitude, abandonment - all is a point for this Master to express your thought! I'm shaken! You no?