A poem, being an instance of language, hence essentially dialogue, may be a letter in a bottle thrown out to the sea… — Paul Celan Copy Share Image
A poem, as a manifestation of language and thus essentially dialogue, can be a message in a bottle, sent out in the… — Paul Celan Copy Share Image
The poem is lonely. It is lonely and en route. Its author stays with it. Does this very fact not place the… — 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 Image
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 Image
“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 Image
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 Image
“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 Image
Don't sign your name between worlds, surmount the manifold of meanings, trust the tearstain, learn to live. — Paul Celan Copy Share Image
