Rilke: Der Panther / The panther

His vision, from the constantly passing bars
has grown so weary that I cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars, and behind the bars, no world

As he paces in cramped circles, over an d over
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed

only at times, the curtain of the pupils
ligts, quitly- an image enters in
rushes down through the tensed, arresrted muscles
plunges into the heart and is gone