Corona - Paul Celan
Autumn eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.
From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk:
then time returns to the shell.
In the mirror it’s Sunday, in dream there is room for sleeping, our mouths speak the truth.
My eye moves down to the sex of my loved one: we look at each other, we exchange dark words, we love each other like poppy and recollection, we sleep like wine in the conches, like the sea in the moon’s blood ray.
We stand by the window embracing, and people look up from the street: it is time they knew! It is time the stone made an effort to flower, time unrest had a beating heart. It is time it were time.
It is time.
Translated from German by Michael Hamburger
Big Book Of Poetry
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Human Voice - Vladimir Holan
Stone and star do not force their music on us,
flowers are silent, things hold something back,
because of us, animals deny
their own harmony of innocence and stealth,
the wind has always its chastity of simple gesture
and what song is only the mute birds know,
to whom you tossed an unthreshed sheaf on Christmas Eve.
To be is enough for them and that is beyond words. But we, we are afraid not only in the dark, even in the abundant light we do not see our neighbor and desperate for exorcism cry out in terror: 'Are you there? Speak!'
Translation from the Czech by Ian Milner
Big Book Of Poetry
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