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Death Fugue: Translation Of Paul Celan's Todesfugue

Todesfugue ('Death Fugue')
by Paul Celan
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Black milk of daybreak, we drink you come dusk;
we drink you come midday, come morning, come night;
we drink you and drink you.
We're digging a grave like a hole in the sky;
there's sufficient room to lie there.
The man of the house plays with vipers; he writes

in the Teutonic darkness, 'Your golden hair Margarete...'
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Wednesday, March 11, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: death,german,germany,grave,holocaust,injustice,murder,racism,translation
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