Paul Celan Poems

0 little root of a dream
you hold me here
undermined by blood,
no longer visible to anyone,
...

The line
that remained, that
became true: . . . your
house in Paris -- become
...

more fully,
since snow fell even on this
sun-drifted, sun-drenched sea,
blossoms the ice in those baskets
...

I can still see you: an Echo,
to be touched with Feeler-
Words, on the Parting-
Ridge.
...

Count the Almonds,
count, what was bitter, watched for you,
count me in:
...

Little Night: when you
take me within, within,
up there,
three Pain-Inches above
...

In the Almond – what dwells in the Almond?
Nothing.
Nothing dwells in the Almond.
There it dwells and dwells.
...

I hear, the Axe has flowered,
I hear, the Place is un-nameable,

I hear, the Bread, that looks on him,
...

Aspen Tree, your leaves glance white into the dark.
My mother's hair was never white.
...

Snowfall, denser and denser,
dove-coloured as yesterday,
snowfall, as if even now you were sleeping.
...