As in sleeping-drink spices <br />softly she loosens in the liquid-clear <br />mirror her fatigued demeanor; <br />and she puts her smile deep inside. <br /> <br />And she waits while the liquid <br />rises from it; then she pours her hair <br />into the mirror, and, lifting one <br />wondrous shoulder from the evening gown, <br /> <br />she drinks quietly from her image. She drinks <br />what a lover would drink feeling dazed, <br />searching it, full of mistrust; and she only <br /> <br />beckons to her maid when at the bottom <br />of her mirror she finds candles, wardrobes, <br />and the cloudy dregs of a late hour. <br /> <br /> <br />Translated by Edward Snow<br /><br />Rainer Maria Rilke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lady-at-a-mirror/
