With a changing key, you unlock the house where the snow of what’s silenced drifts. Just like the blood that bursts from Your eye or mouth or ear, so your key changes. Changing your key changes the word That may… — Paul Celan Copy Share Image
“Autumn eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends. From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk: then… — Paul Celan Copy Share
We are told that when Hölderlin went 'mad,' he constantly repeated, 'Nothing is happening to me, nothing is happening to me.' — Paul Celan Copy Share
“Your hair waves once more when I weep. With the blue of your eyes you lay the table of love: a bed between summer… — Paul Celan Copy Share
Poetry is perhaps this: an Atemwende, a turning of our breath. Who knows, perhaps poetry goes its way—the way of art—for the sake of… — Paul Celan Copy Share
“Autunm eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends. From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk: then… — Paul Celan Copy Share
Don't sign your name between worlds, surmount the manifold of meanings, trust the tearstain, learn to live. — Paul Celan Copy Share
