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    paul celan Quotes

    With a changing key, you unlock the house where the snow of what's silenced drifts. Just like the blood that bursts from Your eye or mouth or ear, so your key changes. Changing your key changes the word That may drift with flakes. Just like the wind that rebuffs you, Clenched round your word is the snow.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: key  eyes  blood 
     
    The twoheart-grey puddles:twomouthsfull of silence.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: silence 
     
    no one bears witness for the witness
    — Paul Celan
    Each arrow you shoot off carries its own target into the decidedly secret tangle
    — Paul Celan
    tags: secret 
     
    in the air, there your root remains, there, in the air
    — Paul Celan
    Illegibility of this world. All things twice over. The strong clocks justify the splitting hour, hoarsely. You , clamped into your deepest part, climb out of yourself for ever.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: world  strong 
     
    Read! Read all the time, the understanding will come by itself.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: time  understanding  read 
     
    With wine and being lost, with less and less of both: I rode through the snow, do you read me I rode God far-I rode God near, he sang, it was our last ride over the hurdled humans. They cowered when they heard us overhead, they wrote, they lied our neighing into one of their image-ridden languages.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: language  lost  god  read 
     
    There was earth inside them, and they dug.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: earth 
     
    Poetry is a sort of homecoming.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: poetry 
     
    They've healed me to pieces.
    — Paul Celan
    Death is a master from Germany.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: death  master 
     
    We are told that when Hölderlin went 'mad,' he constantly repeated, 'Nothing is happening to me, nothing is happening to me.'
    — Paul Celan
    Don't sign your name between worlds, surmount the manifold of meanings, trust the tearstain, learn to live.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: live  world  trust  meaning  learn 
     
    German poetry is going in a very different direction from French poetry.... Its language has become more sober, more factual. It distrusts "beauty." It tries to be truthful.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: language  poetry 
     
    who is invisible enough to see you
    — Paul Celan
    A nothingwe were, are, shallremain, flowering:the nothing-, theno one's rose.
    — Paul Celan
    The poem is lonely. It is lonely and en route. Its author stays with it. Does this very fact not place the poem already here, at its inception, in the encounter, in the mystery of encounter?
    — Paul Celan
    tags: mystery  facts  poem  author 
     
    A poem, being an instance of language, hence essentially dialogue, may be a letter in a bottle thrown out to the sea with the-surely not always strong-hope that it may somehow wash up somewhere, perhaps on the shoreline of the heart. In this way, too, poems are en route: they are headed towards. Toward what? Toward something open, inhabitable, an approachable you, perhaps, an approachable reality. Such realities are, I think, at stake in a poem.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: heart  reality  language  poem 
     
    Reality is not simply there, it does not simply exist: it must be sought out and won.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: reality 
     
    Only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: loss  language 
     
    Only truthful hands write true poems. I cannot see any basic difference between a handshake and a poem.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: true  write  poem 
     
    Tall poplars-human beings of this earth!
    — Paul Celan
    you're rowing by wordlight
    — Paul Celan
    Spring: trees flying up to their birds
    — Paul Celan
    rush of pine scent (once upon a time), the unlicensed conviction there ought to be another way of saying this.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: saying 
     
    The heart hid still in the dark, hard as the Philosophers Stone.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: heart  dark  philosopher 
     
    I went with my very being toward language.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: language 
     
    Black milk of daybreak we drink it at sundown.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: black 
     
    He speaks truly who speaks the shade.
    — Paul Celan
    The language with which I make my poems has nothing to do with one spoken here, or anywhere.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: language  poem 
     
    A poem, as a manifestation of language and thus essentially dialogue, can be a message in a bottle, sent out in the "not always greatly hopeful-belief that somewhere and sometime it could wash up on land, on heartland perhaps. Poems in this sense too are under way: they are making toward something. Toward what? Toward something standing open, occupiable, perhaps toward an addressable Thou, toward an addressable reality.
    — Paul Celan
    How you die out in me: down to the last worn-out knot of breath you're there, with a splinter of life.
    — Paul Celan
    tags: die 
     
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