Friday, February 25, 2011

Void IV



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