Evening by Rainer Maria Rilke The evening slowly changes its attire, held for it by a border of old trees. You watch the realms depart from you and veer away: one falls and one ascends the skies. They leave you, who don’t quite belong to either, not quite as dark as the silent house, not quite as surely calling forth what lasts forever as that which turns to star and climbs each night. They leave you inexpressibly unwinding your life—enormous, ripening, tinged with fear— now limited in scope, now comprehending, by turns becoming stone in you and star. Abend Der Abend wechselt langsam die Gewänder, die ihm ein Rand von alten Bäumen hält; du schaust: und von dir scheiden sich die Länder, ein himmelfahrendes, und eins, das fällt; und lassen dich, zu keinen ganz gehörend, nicht ganz so dunkel wie das Haus, das schweigt, nicht ganz so sicher Ewiges beschwörend wie das, was Stern wird jede Nacht und steigt; und lassen dich (unsäglich zu entwirrn) dein Leben bang und riesenhaft und reifend, so daß es, bald begrenzt und bald begreifend, abwechselnd Stein in dir wird und Gestirn.
Susan McLean, professor emerita of English at Southwest Minnesota State University, has published two books of poetry, The Best Disguise and The Whetstone Misses the Knife, and one book of translations of the Latin poet Martial. Her translations of Rilke have appeared in Subtropics, Transference, Presence, and elsewhere.
Amethyst Review 
My German is rudimentary but even I can tell this is a much better translation than Edward Snow’s. Thank you.
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