Behind Bars

Yesterday for our beginning meditation in EFM, a member brought the Rilke poem about the caged panther. Then we all discussed what "bars" we see out of (or through). I keep coming back to my critique of myself for not being "perfect" and how that stops me from action, which I wrote about a few days ago.

I was not familiar with this particular poem and now keep thinking about it. So here it is:

The Panther

From seeing the bars, his seeing is so exhausted
that it no longer holds anything anymore.
To him the world is bars, a hundred thousand
bars, and behind the bars, nothing.

The lithe swinging of that rhythmical easy stride
which circles down to the tiniest hub
is like a dance of energy around a point
in which a great will stands stunned and numb.

Only at times the curtains of the pupil rise
without a sound — then a shape enters,
slips through the tightened silence of the shoulders,
reaches the heart, and dies.

~~Rainier Marie Rilke (translated by Robert Bly)

Then it turns out that there are various translations. If you are interested, go here or here.