Just as the last green in color crucibles
these leaves, dry, dull and rough,
behind the flower umbels, which bear a blue
not up, only remotely reflect .
it reflect stained and inaccurate,
wanted when they lose it again,
and, like in old blue stationery
yellow in them, violet and gray;
Washed as a children's apron,
no longer worn, where nothing happens:
feels just a little life soon.
But suddenly seems Verneuer to the blue is
in one of the cones, and you see a touching blue
rejoice before the green.
Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)
You can find several English versions of Rilke's poem "Blue Hydrangea" over here.
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