painting by estelle hartley
ALL DYING SEAGULLS ARE BROKEN? NAY.
Gay verse ether oak
see, the brief
haughty elf
hoofing took her:
that the well, the hornet
fern, the milk
knower, when
the mood she tours clock be awayed,
the clock be dumb mood, weed her,
that she nicked oak
then elect throne dear idiot and
speak low, the dottle
for a biter too for
many take a long dying
often.
Paul Celan
Posted over on Poems an Poetics
No comments:
Post a Comment