I’ve been reading Paul Celan & Nelly Sachs: Correspondence. M was reading this around a year ago, & at that time, I couldn’t bring myself to read it, too. I think because I knew I couldn’t understand what it meant to him or I was afraid of what it might mean. Now I’m reading it for myself. To see what it means to me. Nelly sends Paul this poem, it totally made me almost cry. There are very few poems that do this. The only one I can remember is Farrah Field’s poem, “In Opelousa.” Anyways, here is Nelly’s poem:
Why this sadness?
Why in your eyes
the pearling light that dying is made from?
Quietly we slip down this sheer cliff of terror
it gazes at us with star-studded deaths
these dust-stiffened afterbirths
where the song of the birds leaked away
and the lip entombed the wine of speech.
Oh beam that awakened us:
how you took us weary for home
in your darkening arms
then left us alone in the night—
This is how Nelly’s letter ends. All letters should end like this, alone in the night.
I have been debating getting internet for the summer, but reading these letters made me decide not to. I think I’ll write more letters to friends without wifi. I want to reach out. I want to pluck leaves from your hair, to dusk your shoulders with eyelashes, to send paper boats to your sink, to swim out of the coffin, to pinch a cloud through the window.
Also, I want more (translated) German syntax in my life.
Photos from this morning. Because I can't get my ISO off of automatic, everything must blur. Everything must blur!
Also, this was a search term. Imagine the conversation we were having: