Paul Celan

(23 November 1920 - 20 April 1970 / (Cernăuţi, Bukovin) Chernivtsi, Ukraine)

Paul Celan Poems

1. Vinegrowers 12/1/2015
2. On My Right 11/23/2011
3. With The Voice 11/23/2011
4. Whorish Other-When 11/23/2011
5. The Poles 11/23/2011
6. Stuttered-Over-Again World 11/23/2011
7. The Trumpet-Part 11/23/2011
8. Only When 11/23/2011
9. Illegibility 11/23/2011
10. There Was Earth 11/23/2011
11. Alchemical 11/23/2011
12. To Stand In The Shadow 11/23/2011
13. The Straitening 11/23/2011
14. Tenebrae 11/23/2011
15. Tallow Lamp 11/23/2011
16. With Every Thought 11/23/2011
17. Ice, Eden 11/23/2011
18. When You Lie 11/23/2011
19. Afternoon Of Circus And Citadel 11/23/2011
20. Homecoming 11/23/2011
21. Aspen Tree 11/23/2011
22. I Hear 11/23/2011
23. Mandorla 11/23/2011
24. Little Night 11/23/2011
25. I Can Still See You 11/23/2011
26. Count The Almonds 11/23/2011
27. This Evening Also 1/13/2003
28. Twelve Years 1/13/2003
29. O Little Root Of A Dream 1/20/2003
30. Landscape 1/13/2003
31. In Front Of A Candle 1/25/2003
32. Night Ray 1/13/2003
33. Flower 11/23/2011
34. Crystal 1/13/2003
35. Your Hand 1/25/2003
36. Psalm 1/25/2003
37. Fugue Of Death 1/20/2003
38. Corona 1/13/2003
39. Death Fugue 1/13/2003

Comments about Paul Celan

  • LaasLaff (3/25/2019 7:23:00 AM)

    As Carmel Blackie describes, here is a new work by de Waal in relation to Celan's poems: https: // v=bcd2Pd-xXZs

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (12/11/2015 12:16:00 PM)

    In den flussen nördlich der Zukunft

    In den flussen nördlich der Zukunft
    werf ich das Netz aus, das du
    zögernd beschwerst
    mit von Steinen geschriebenen

    - - - - - -
    in Italian:

    Nei fiumi a nord del futuro

    Nei fiumi a nord del futuro
    getto la rete che tu,
    esitante, carichi
    di ombre scritte
    da pietre

    [da “Virata di respiro” (“Atemwende”) ]

    348 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (5/20/2015 9:42:00 AM)

    many critics have asked, “Can poetry be written after the Holocaust? ”

    Hamburger’s response seems to be that the more beautifully this poetry is written, the more it can provide the most discomforting account.

    in Goodrich, J., Rhyme or Reason? : Successfully Translating the Poetry of Paul Celan (2008)

    386 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (5/19/2015 12:23:00 PM)

    ''poetry is probably the most useful form of writing for confronting grief.
    Indeed you can be very precise about emotions with poetic language, as well as being open and even harsh. The language of poetry can allude to things almost inexpressible in prose. Paul Celan's poetry is a beacon, from this point of view.''

    391 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Carmel Blackie (11/5/2013 5:33:00 PM)

    This poet inspired Edmund De Waal, author of the Hare with amber eyes! and a potter! to create an exhibition in New York in summer 2013. featured on Uk TV horizon, on 5nov 2013, BBC1. brilliant!

    10 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • Arum Fatima (1/8/2010 11:06:00 PM)

    saya pernah mendengar puisi paul celan, , seperti mantra
    saya mendengarnya dari cd, , ya, , saya suka

    8 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
Best Poem of Paul Celan

Death Fugue

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at sundown
we drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night
we drink it and drink it
we dig a grave in the breezes there one lies unconfined
A man lives in the house he plays with the serpents
he writes
he writes when dusk falls to Germany your golden
hair Margarete
he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are
flashing he whistles his pack out
he whistles his Jews out in earth has them dig for a
he commands us strike up for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at ...

Read the full of Death Fugue

Night Ray

Most brightly of all burned the hair of my evening loved one:
to her I send the coffin of lightest wood.
Waves billow round it as round the bed of our dream in Rome;
it wears a white wig as I do and speaks hoarsely:
it talks as I do when I grant admittance to hearts.
It knows a French song about love, I sang it in autumn
when I stopped as a tourist in Lateland and wrote my letters
to morning.

[Report Error]