Is too

i'm reading him at the moment, i must admit and am enjoying poems like 'winter' (which was about his mother who were killed by the Nazis in the Second World War)... one of those writers i think i am amazed lived to the age he did really with some of the demons he dragged behind him.

Hi Andy, yes, I am profoundly moved by Celan's poems. I went through quite a Celan and Nelly Sachs obsession. Both write about the dilemma, madness, grief, inappropriateness and impossibility of continuing to live after the Holocaust.

Totally Moxy over Paul Celan... I don't know Nelly Sachs - will have to look him up.. I'll let you know what I think..

Hi Andy, here's the wikipedia page about her. She was a very close friend of Celan and won the Noble Prize for Literature in 1966.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nelly_Sachs

Mr Robert Keegan Walker, is most definitely, too.

Andy - Nelly Sachs was a woman.

Death Fugue
by Paul Celan
translated by Jerome Rothenberg


Black milk of morning we drink you at dusktime
we drink you at noontime and dawntime we drink you at night
we drink and drink
we scoop out a grave in the sky where it’s roomy to lie
There’s a man in this house who cultivates snakes and who writes
who writes when it’s nightfall nach Deutschland your golden hair Margareta
he writes it and walks from the house and the stars all start flashing he whistles his dogs to draw near
whistles his Jews to appear starts us scooping a grave out of sand
he commands us to play for the dance

Black milk of morning we drink you at night
we drink you at dawntime and noontime we drink you at dusktime
we drink and drink
There’s a man in this house who cultivates snakes and who writes
who writes when it’s nightfall nach Deutschland your golden hair Margareta
your ashen hair Shulamite we scoop out a grave in the sky where it’s roomy to lie
He calls jab it deep in the soil you lot there you other men sing and play
he tugs at the sword in his belt he swings it his eyes are blue
jab your spades deeper you men you other men you others play up again for the dance

Black milk of morning we drink you at night
we drink you at noontime and dawntime we drink you at dusktime
we drink and drink
there’s a man in this house your golden hair Margareta
your ashen hair Shulamite he cultivates snakes

He calls play that death thing more sweetly Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland
he calls scrape that fiddle more darkly then hover like smoke in the air
then scoop out a grave in the clouds where it’s roomy to lie

Black milk of morning we drink you at night
we drink you at noontime Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland
we drink you at dusktime and dawntime we drink and drink
Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland his eye is blue
he shoots you with leaden bullets his aim is true
there’s a man in this house your golden hair Margareta
he sets his dogs on our trail he gives us a grave in the sky
he cultivates snakes and he dreams Death is a gang-boss aus Deutschland

your golden hair Margareta
your ashen hair Shulamite

Cheers Steve and Moxy for the tip... I haven't had chance to have a look either way but I certainly will do over the next night or two.