Song of the Little Cripple at the Street Corner

Maybe my soul’s all right.

But my body’s all wrong,

All bent and twisted,

All this that hurts me so.

My soul keeps trying, trying

To straighten my body up.

It hangs on my skeleton, frantic,

Flapping its terrified wings.

Look here, look at my hands,

They look like little wet toads

After a rainstorm’s over,

Hopping, hopping, hopping.

Maybe God didn’t like

The look of my face when He saw it.

Sometimes a big dog

Looks right into it.

 

Source: Poetry (April 2006). Rainer Maria Rilke,Translated by David Ferry in Poetry Magzine.