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
