about Sebastian

Ranier Maria Rilke's poem


Saint Sebastian



Lying like a he is, quite

put off by the great will.

Far distant as mothers when they breastfeed

and is bound like a wreath.



And get the arrows, now and now

and when they would spring from his loins,

iron trembling with the free ends.

But he smiles dark, unharmed.



Once only his grief is great;

and the eyes are just painful

to deny something as small thing

and when she let go of contempt

the destroyer of a beautiful thing.



Rainer Maria Rilke, Winter 1905/06, Meudon