Death Fugue by Paul Celan

In my previous post on Anselm Kiefer I noted that the painting Shulamith was inspired by Paul Celan's poem Todesfuge, Death Fugue.

Paul Celan was born to a Jewish family in Romania and became one of the major German-language poets of the post-WWII era. In 1942 his parents were taken from their home to a concentration camp where they eventually died. Celan was also taken to a work camp where he remained for two years. After liberation he worked as a nurse in a mental hospital and eventually moved to Paris where he lived for the rest of his life. He committed suicide by drowning in the Seine in 1970.

He said that 'there is nothing in the world for which a poet will give up writing, not even when he is a Jew and the language of his poems is German'.

He also said after Auschwitz that: 'only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss. But it had to go through its own lack of answers, through terrifying silence, through the thousand darknesses of murderous speech. It went through. It gave me no words for what was happening, but went through it. Went through and could resurface, 'enriched' by it all'.






Anselm Kiefer, Shulamith, 1983


Death Fugue, by Paul Celan

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at sundown
we drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night
we drink it and drink it
we dig a grave in the breezes there one lies unconfined
A man lives in the house he plays with the serpents he writes
he writes when dusk falls to Germany your golden hair Margarete
he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are flashing he whistles his pack out
he whistles his Jews out in earth has them dig for a grave
he commands us strike up for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you in the morning at noon we drink you at sundown
we drink and we drink you
A man lives in the house he plays with the serpents he writes
he writes when dusk falls to Germany your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Sulamith we dig a grave in the breezes there one lies unconfined

He calls out jab deeper into the earth you lot you others sing now and play
he grabs at the iron in his belt he waves it his eyes are blue
jab deeper you lot with your spades you others play on for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at noon in the morning we drink you at sundown
we drink and we drink you
a man lives in the house your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Sulamith he plays with the serpents
He calls out more sweetly play death is a master from Germany
he calls out more darkly now stroke your strings then as smoke you will rise into air
then a grave you will have in the clouds there one lies unconfined

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at noon death is a master from Germany
we drink you at sundown and in the morning we drink and we drink you
death is a master from Germany his eyes are blue
he strikes you with leaden bullets his aim is true
a man lives in the house your golden hair Margarete
he sets his pack on to us he grants us a grave in the air
He plays with the serpents and daydreams death is a master from Germany

your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Shulamith.



Sources:
http://shoshernst.wordpress.com/about-2/paul-cellan-death-fugue/
Wikipedia