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Todtnauberg

Paul Celan (1920 in Cernauti, Romania - 1970 in Paris) was a poet and translator. Paul Antschel was born into a Jewish family in Romania, but as a writer used the pseudonym "Paul Celan," becoming one of the major German-languuage poets after World War II. Celans parents were deported by the Nazis in 1942 to a death camp in Transnistria (area between Moldvia and Ukraine). His Father died of thyphoid, his mother was shot. The deportation and the death of his parents left deep marks in Paul Celan. From 1942-1943 he was imprisoned in work camps and had to work in road construction in southern Moldavia. After the liberation by the Red Army, Celan went back to Czernowitz and finally settled in Paris in 1948. In 1969 he travelled to Jerusalem, only fwe months before his death. Circumstances and true date of his death are not really known but it is believed that he drowned himself in the Seine River in April 1970. His body was found near Coubevoie, ten kilometres downstream in the Seine. He was buried on May 12th 1970 in Paris. Todtnauberg (Paul Celan) Arnika, Augentrost, der Trunk aus dem Brunnen mit dem Sternwürfel drauf, in der Hütte, (= Hut in English) die in das Buch - wessen Namen nahms auf vor dem meinen? - die in dies Buch geschriebene Zeile von einer Hoffnung heute, auf eines Denkenden kommendes Wort im Herzen, Waldwasen, uneingeebnet Orchis und Orchis, einzeln, Krudes, später, im Fahren, deutlich, der uns fährt, der Mensch der's mit anhört, die halb- beschrittenen Knüppel- pfade im Hochmoor, Feuchtes, viel. -------------------------------------------- Arnica, eyebright, the draft from the well with the star-die on top, in the Hütte written in the book - whose name did it record before mine? - in this book the line about a hope, today, for a thinker's word to come, in the heart, forest sward, unleveled, orchis and orchis, singly, crudeness, later, while driving, clearly, he who drives us, the man, he who also hears it, the half- trod log- trails on the highmoor, humidity, much. Celan: "Todtnauberg" (translated by Pierre Joris) Used by permission of the translator

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




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Date: 7/22/2010 5:35:00 AM
Great educational write that you have penned in this one...The horror that this person must have suffered at the hands of the enemy...The line about whose name in the book before his...The man who drives us..That expresses so much..I could weep...Thanks for stopping by and commenting on my work..Sara
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Date: 7/20/2010 9:41:00 PM
It seems like a sad life, Gert. One who suffered much. Thanks for sharing and thank you for your kind comments on mine. Caroline.
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Date: 7/20/2010 7:53:00 PM
I AM SORRY GERT, I AM HERE TO READ YOUR POEM, NICE JOB. BUT I ALSO NOTICE CAROLYNS COMMENT. P.D. DID NOT SLAM HER, SHE HELD A CONTEST CALLED ANTI- SLAM..TO HURT THE SLAM POETS HERE ON THE SITE. YES SHE IS POSTING THAT COMMENT WHERE EVER I COMMENT. IT IS REALLY OFFENSIVE FOR P.D., SHE KNOWS THERE IS NO SLAM OUT THERE FOR HER. EVERYONE MISSED HER CONTEST. HER COMMENT IS VERY UNCALLED 4. P.D. IS HARMLESS.SHE IS JUST HAVING FUNWITH POETS WHO WANT 2 HAVE FUN WITH HER. I AM SURE U KNOW THAT.-SKAT
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Date: 7/20/2010 5:29:00 PM
A tragic piece of history you've shared with us, Gert. Thank you for the info.
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Date: 7/20/2010 10:51:00 AM
Soup mail
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Date: 7/20/2010 10:51:00 AM
Make that regular email
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Date: 7/20/2010 7:12:00 AM
Can't believe my "friends" thought it was fine for PD to slam me when I never said anything public against her. Very sad to see you among them.
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Date: 7/20/2010 6:47:00 AM
A nice light of information thanks once again for sharing your knowledge with us,,enjoyed,..p.d.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things