Alchemical Poem by Paul Celan

Silence, like Gold cooked in
charred
Hands.

Vast, grey,
near as all that is Lost
Sisterly-Shape:

All the Names, all the with-
Burnt up
Names. So much
Ash to be blessed. So much
Land gained
above
the light, so light
Soul-
Rings.

Vast. Grey. Clinker-
less.

You, then.
You with the pale
bitten-out bud,
You in the Wine-Flood.

(Did it not discharge
us too, this Hour?
Good,
Good, that your Word died away here.)

Silence, like Gold cooked, in
charred, charred
Hands.
Fingers, smoke-thin. Like Crowns, Air-Crowns
around – –

Vast. Grey. Track-
less.
Queen-
like.