1 min read
Слушать(AI)I Can Still See You
I can still see you: an Echo,to be touched with Feeler-Words, on the Parting-Ridge.
Your face softly shies away,when all at once there islamp-like brightnessin me, at the Point,where most painfully one says Never.
Paul Celan
Paul Celan (/ˈsɛlæn/;[1] German: [ˈtseːlaːn]; 23 November 1920 – c. 20 April 1970) was a Romanian-born German-language poet and translator. He w
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
I Hear
I hear, the Axe has flowered, I hear, the Place is un-nameable, I hear, the Bread, that looks on him,heals the Hanged-Man,the Bread, his Wife baked for him, I hear, they name Lifeour sole Refuge
Landscape
tall poplars — human beings of this earth black pounds of happiness — you mirror them to death I saw you, sister, stand in that effulgence Anonymous submission
In Front Of A Candle
Of chased Gold, asyou told me to, Mother, I shaped the Candlestick, out of whichshe darkens for me in the midst offracturing Being-Dead’s Daughter
When You Lie
When you liein the Bed of lost Flag-Cloth,with blue-black Syllables, in Snow-Eyelash-Shadow,the Crane through Thought-showers,comes gliding, steely-you open for him His beak ticks the Hour for youat every Mouth – at everybell-stroke, with red...
