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“Lord, it is time. Let the great summer go,

Lay your long shadows on the sundials,
And over harvest piles let the winds blow.

Command the last fruits to be ripe;
Grant them some other southern hour,
Urge them to completion, and with power
Drive final sweetness to the heavy grape.

Who’s homeless now, will for long stay alone.
No home will build his weary hands,
He’ll wake, read, write letters long to friends
And will the alleys up and down
Walk restlessly, when falling leaves dance.”

At first glance I believed that this poem was simply about the season changing to autumn, and all of the events that come along with it. Upon reading this over a few more times I realized that Rainer Maria Rilke was writing more about the coming to a close of something bigger. It is talking about about people shutting themselves up in their homes and isolating themselves. “Who’s homeless now, will for long stay alone. No home will build his weary hands” is talking about how with this ending, nothing new will start up for a while, we are all on our own.

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