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In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss. I cannot see any basic difference between a handshake and a poem. Toward something standing open, occupiable, perhaps toward an addressable Thou, toward an addressable reality.” -- Paul Celan, “There was earth inside them, and they dug.” -- Paul Celan, “Don't sign your name between worlds, surmount the manifold of meanings, trust the tearstain, learn to live.” -- Paul Celan, “Reachable, near and not lost, there remained in the midst of the losses this one thing: language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss.”, “There was earth inside them, and they dug.”. 88 quotes from Paul Celan: 'Poetry is a sort of homecoming.

Render me bitter. “Only truthful hands write true poems. Read! Toward something open, inhabitable, an approachable you, perhaps, an approachable reality. Yes, language. Does this very fact not place the poem already here, at its inception, in the encounter, in the mystery of encounter?” -- Paul Celan, “German poetry is going in a very different direction from French poetry.... Its language has become more sober, more factual. Just like the blood that bursts from Your eye or mouth or ear, so your key changes. You , clamped into your deepest part, climb out of yourself for ever. Perhaps, along with the I, estranged and freed here, in this manner, some other thing is also set free?” -- Paul Celan, “Reality is not simply there, it does not simply exist: it must be sought out and won.” -- 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, “Count up the almonds, Count what was bitter and kept you waking, Count me in too: I sought your eye when you glanced up and no one would see you, I spun that secret thread Where the dew you mused on Slid down to pitchers Tended by a word that reached no one’s heart. Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. It, the language, remained, not lost, yes, in spite of everything. Passed through and could come to light again, “enriched” by all this.”, “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. Yes, language. Toward something open, inhabitable, an approachable you, perhaps, an approachable reality. Toward something standing open, occupiable, perhaps toward an addressable Thou, toward an addressable reality. Yes, language. It passed through and gave back no words for that which happened; yet it passed through this happening. I cannot see any basic difference between a handshake and a poem.”, “We are told that when Hölderlin went 'mad,' he constantly repeated, 'Nothing is happening to me, nothing is happening to me. All things twice over. Welcome back. It, the language, remained, not lost, yes, in spite of everything.

It went through.

It passed through and gave back no words for that which happened; yet it passed through this happening. It is perhaps here, in this one brief moment, that Medusa’s head shrivels and the automaton runs down? In this way, too, poems are en route: they are headed towards. -- Paul Celan .

"Aspen Tree. Changing your key changes the word That may drift with flakes. Read all the time, the understanding will come by itself. “Glottal Stop: 101 Poems by Paul Celan”, p.108, Wesleyan University Press, Paul Celan (2014). “Selected poems”, Penguin Books Ltd, Paul Celan, Rosemarie Waldrop (2003). #Bears #Witness “who is invisible enough to see you”-- Paul Celan But it had to pass through its own answerlessness, pass through frightful muting, pass through the thousand darknesses of deathbringing speech. There was earth inside them, and they dug. Its author stays with it. Don't sign your name between worlds, surmount the manifold of meanings, trust the tearstain, learn to live.

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