Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Celan: "Fadensonnen"

Wisps of suns
over the grey-black wasteland.
A tree-
tall thought
grasps the light-tone: there are
still songs to sing beyond

With the visual eclipsed, the mystical unveiled and the natural desacralized, the dynamism of sound still promises redemption in the transcendent realm of the impossible. Why are we still waiting for the divining rod?

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