Jamie

“Your hair waves once more when I weep. With the blue of your eyes
you lay the table of love: a bed between summer and autumn.
We drink what somebody brewed, neither I nor you nor a third:
we lap up some empty and last thing.

We watch ourselves in the deep sea’s mirrors and faster pass food to the other:
the night is the night, it begins with the morning,
beside you it lays me down.

("The Years From You To Me")”
― Paul Celan, Poems of Paul Celan

“You Were My Death

You were my death:
you I could hold
when all fell away from me.”
― Paul Celan, Selected Poems

“DUMB AUTUMN SMELLS. The
marguerite, unbroken, passed
between home and chasm through
your memory.

A strange lostness was
palpably present, almost
you would have lived.”
― Paul Celan, Poems of Paul Celan

“Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.”
― Kait Rokowski