Poppy Field

7:00 AM

Guy Rose, Poppy Field, 1910 

Sonnets to Orpheus, #9
By Ranier Maria Rilke

Only he who has also raised 
his lyre among shadows 
may find his way back 
to infinite praise. 

Only he who has eaten with the dead 
from their stores of poppy 
will never again lose 
the softest chord. 

And though the pool's reflection 
often blurs before us: 
Know the image. 

Only in the double realm 
do the voices become 
eternal and mild.

Editor's Note: Students were asked to match a poem of their choice with a painting of their choice. The relationship between the two shall be determined by the viewer/reader.

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