Page:Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke (1918).djvu/69

 MEMORIES OF A CHILDHOOD

The darkness hung like richness in the room

When like a dream the mother entered there

And then a glass's tinkle stirred the air

Near where a boy sat in the silent gloom.

The room betrayed the mother—so she felt—

She kissed her boy and questioned "Are you here?"

And with a gesture that he held most dear

Down for a moment by his side she knelt.

Toward the piano they both shyly glanced

For she would sing to him on many a night,

And the child seated in the fading light

Would listen strangely as if half entranced,

His large eyes fastened with a quiet glow

Upon the hand which by her ring seemed bent

And slowly wandering o'er the white keys went

Moving as though against a drift of snow.

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