Amidst the whispers of ancient leaves,
Rilke wanders through the shadowed trees,
Seeking the soul’s quiet reprieve,
In the dance of time’s gentle breeze.

Words like rivers flow from his pen,
Capturing moments of fleeting grace,
In the solitude of his quiet den,
He finds the universe’s embrace.

Through the veil of night, his thoughts take flight,
Illuminating the silent stars,
A poet’s heart in the endless night,
Embracing the beauty of life’s scars.

Rilke’s life, a symphony of dreams,
Echoes in the corridors of time,
In every verse, a star that gleams,
A testament to the poet’s climb.