O Little Root of a Dream by Paul Celan Translated by Heather McHugh and Nikolai Popov O little root of a dream you hold me here undermined by blood, no longer visible to anyone, property of death. Curve a face that there may be speech, of earth, of ardor, of things with eyes, even here, where you read me blind, even here, where you refute me, to the letter.
No comments:
Post a Comment