All drawings untitled 2003
AT BRANCUSI'S THE TWO OF US
If one of these stones
were to give away
what it is that keeps silent about it:
here, nearby,
at this old man's limping stick,
it would open up, as a wound,
in which you would have to submerge,
lonely,
far from my scream, that is
chiselled already, white.
Paul Celan
