Little Night

Poem By Paul Celan

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

all the Shroud-Coats of Sand,
all the Help-Nots,
all, that still
laughs
with the Tongue -

Comments about Little Night

A very nice poem. Loved it.
sorry.. here is my comment in English: it is amazing how Celan manages to weave POETRY with the simplest words
è stupefacente il modo in cui Celan riesce a intessere POESIA con le più semplici parole


Rating Card

3,3 out of 5
14 total ratings

Other poems of CELAN

Fugue Of Death

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at nightfall
we drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night
we drink it and drink it
we are digging a grave in the sky it is ample to lie there

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.

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

Psalm

No-man kneads us again out of Earth and Loam,
no-man spirits our Dust.
No-man.

Your Hand

Your hand full of hours, you came to me – and I said:
‘Your hair is not brown.’
You lifted it, lightly,
on to the balance of grief,
it was heavier than I.

Aspen Tree

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