Corona

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

by Paul Celan

Other poems of CELAN (38)

Comments (9)

'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.' if we meditate upon these words for a few minutes, many philosophical meanings enter the mind, so I will rob no one of this meditative journey; just one obvious possibility, in the summer of life we may store nuts and live experience life in sunshine, store memories in bright golden sunlight, our experiences are life lived shelled from the nut experiences, friends share walk our nuts of time, we hold all seasons all experiences lived in our hand, experiences lived breathed we reached out and plucked broke open ate as nuts cracked shelled with friends shared, time lives inside outside our shell as we live inside outside time, we may take of time walk in time share our time, crak open time possibilities, time choices before time returns to the shell; the first stanza can easily be meditated on for hald an hour, the lines line by line, expanded into other lines other possibilities, let the lines wash over you in silent patient and they will speak, if you take time, timeless time to listen effortlessly
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?
Autunm eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.romantic written
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.
Room for sleeping! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
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