I can still see you: an Echo,
to be touched with Feeler-
Words, on the Parting-
Ridge.
Your face softly shies away,
when all at once there is
lamp-like brightness
in me, at the Point,
where most painfully one says Never.
I can still see you: an Echo,
to be touched with Feeler-
Words, on the Parting-
Ridge.
Your face softly shies away,
when all at once there is
lamp-like brightness
in me, at the Point,
where most painfully one says Never.
© Paul Celan