Psalm by Paul Celan (1/5)

December 16, 2008

i received a second sheet of unsolicited poems yesterday. they were given as a gift, and i started thinking that perhaps there was something about december and poetry that naturally aligned. imagine what the world would be like if instead of gifts, we made and traded and copied poems. posted in a series of 5 by caroline picard. these poems are a gift from irina botea.



(from Die Niemandrose, “The Noonerose,” 1963, trans. Cid Corman)

Noone kneads us again from earth and loam,

noone evokes our dust.


Praised be you, noone.

Because of you we wish

to bloom.

Against you.

A nothing

were we, are we, will

we be, blossoming:

the nothing’s-, the nonesrose.


its pistil soulbright,

its stamen heavencrazed,

its crown red

from the purpleword that we sang

over, O over

its thorn.


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