The Great White / for Paul Celan

​

The windmill slows down at the heart of the storm,

Now your words reach the harbors of grace

The sprouts melt their way through the cracks and the stains:

It is time for the great white

 

What was forsaken will sing.

What was gathered will never be broken.

​

The stones you inhale make amends with the sky

All the torn flags are bidding farewell.

The promises you made to your spleen and the iris:

Lay them down and walk on.

​

Sooner or later the sirens of midnight will call you,

And tear down the walls with the tips of their merciful tongues.

Your watch is completed.

The stream of the Sein keeps you safe and sound.

​

Your wandering forehead is tamed and prepared-

Your allowed when the night can no longer sleep

As your words twist and turn in the dreams of a lost mother

it is time:

for the great white.

​

The angel of poppy surrenders his will to your fine flint,

the currents will guide you-

the map that they utter is precise,

The blood clots are lost in the sand down below,

Now a blind man will harvest the moonlight.

​

Sooner or later the sirens of midnight will call you,

And tear down the walls with the tips of their merciful tongues. Your watch is completed.

The stream of the Sein keeps you safe and sound.

Children's Corner

 

I can't remember on which side I used to lay my head

I can't Remember

This long endless walk

 

And no one whispered in my ears about the little toys

About the precious

So I climb up the stairs

 

It comes to hold you, comes to warn you, comes to colorblind

The mornings pile: 

Year after year

 

And no one whispers in your ears about the seven birds

About the crystal

Now there is nothing to gain

 

Oh how they slip away in the blink of an eye

How they slip away 

Like wind-blown dust

Tale Reprise

 

Far, over the hills

Across seven white deserts

Across seven black seas

If you throw yourself inside

Scattered in all directions

Giving it all until  the ashes 

Are lighter than air