Corona Poem by Paul Celan

Paul Celan

Paul Celan

(Cernăuţi, Bukovin) Chernivtsi, Ukraine


Rating: 3.7

Autunm eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.
From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk:
then time returns to the shell.

In the mirror it's Sunday,
in dream there is room for sleeping,
our mouths speak the truth.

My eye moves down to the sex of my loved one:
we look at each other,
we exchange dark words,
we love each other like poppy and recollection,
we sleep like wine in the conches,
like the sea in the moon's blood ray.

We stand by the window embracing, and people look up from
the street:
it is time they knew!
It is time the stone made an effort to flower,
time unrest had a beating heart.
It is time it were time.

It is time.

Translated by Michael Hamburger

Fabrizio Frosini 20 May 2015

but read my comments * [ '' PSALM '' ] '' Hamburger’s translations are more definite. [..] no one translation will ever be adequate enough. [..] A reader wishing to fully intake Celan’s words in English must become a comparative reader, a critical reader, and most importantly a reader who understands that perhaps one of Celan’s most discomforting elements is that he didn’t always wish to be understood. '' * [Goodrich, J., Rhyme or Reason? : Successfully Translating the Poetry of Paul Celan,2008]

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Terry Craddock 24 December 2016

yes no one translation will ever be adequate, therefore among a sea of possible translations, saviour and save the best, those that touch the essence of this poem, that touch the spirit and profound meaning of this poem, so that those not fluent in the mother language can share some of the possibilities; when a poet fluent in language translates heart felt meaning, a compliment translation is written, which can be as radiant and sublime as the original filled with a spark of cosmic insight like the original, for the original is will of the wisp life within individual friendship experiences seen grasped in nuts of time shelled

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Fabrizio Frosini 18 May 2015

in German - original version: Corona Aus der Hand frißt der Herbst mir sein Blatt: wir sind Freunde. Wir schälen die Zeit aus den Nüssen und lehren sie gehn: die Zeit kehrt zurück in die Schale. Im Spiegel ist Sonntag, im Traum wird geschlafen, der Mund redet wahr. Mein Aug steigt hinab zum Geschlecht der Geliebten: wir sehen uns an, wir sagen uns Dunkles, wir lieben einander wie Mohn und Gedächtnis, wir schlafen wie Wein in den Muscheln, wie das Meer im Blutstrahl des Mondes. Wir stehen umschlungen im Fenster, sie sehen uns zu von der Straße: es ist Zeit, daß man weiß! Es ist Zeit, daß der Stein sich zu blühen bequemt, daß der Unrast ein Herz schlägt. Es ist Zeit, daß es Zeit wird. Es ist Zeit. Paul Celan (b.23 November 1920)

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Zeitwaise 12 July 2019

The translation is terrible, taking everything which is making Celan so unique and sublime.

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Daniel Brick 24 December 2016

The philosopher Hans Gadamer who reveres Celan predicts in another century or so we will comprehend Celan's poems. Until then we can approxomarte its meaning, as his biographer and translator John Feltstimer does. // CORONA is Celan's response to Rilke's AUTUMN DAY which exuberantly celebrates the plentitude at the source of th]ngs. The image of the stone flowering occurs in later poems as well..Can these bits an pieces add up to an interpretatuin?

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Seamus O Brian 24 December 2016

Articulated visions of an artist who sees a canvas of which we are given glimpses. Fascinating to read and contemplate, as we look through the light of the projector and attempt to understand the artist within.

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Edward Kofi Louis 24 December 2016

Room for sleeping! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

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Bernard F. Asuncion 24 December 2016

It reminds me of the song TIME popularized by ALAN PARSONS PROJECT++++++++++++++++++

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Paul Celan

Paul Celan

(Cernăuţi, Bukovin) Chernivtsi, Ukraine
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