From his Speech on the Occasion of Receiving the Literature Prize of the Free Hanseatic City of Bremen:
Only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss. But it had to go through its own lack of answers, through terrifying silence, through the thousand darknesses of murderous speech. It went through. It gave me no words for what was happening, but went through it. Went through and could resurface, 'enriched' by it all.
I have visited the poem several times. First, I read and reread it here. Today, months later, I heard 'Death Fugue' recited in English and German by Timothy Snyder. His voice, weak and tremulous, matched the agony felt in the poem's words. Even while knowing that milk was the sole nourishment given to prisoners in the camps, the 'black milk' of the poem was transmuted in my mind to hardened, days' old clumps of blood. Never have I experienced such ugliness emanating from a poem. I detested it because the pain was unbearable. The cruelty seemed to grew stronger while listening to it recited in German. I saw and felt America with each reading. Although, no Auschwitz or Treblinka, the voices and faces of Trump, DeSantis, Abbott, Gaetz,, Greene, McConnell and Cruz joined the 'Death Fugue' song. Cruelty and lies are not new to America but they are more evident to all who care to know: police brutality, murdered Blacks and Asians, social animosity, hatred, Mario Cuomo, Tucker Carlson... darkness pervades and death is everywhere.
I agree with my whole heart that there is no better way to face Auschwitz truthfully than poetry. The poem, your translation and your readings of both are gripping like iron rods and then again liberating as if I could fly like a piece of ash. Please forgive me asking a small technical question. Is there a reason why you have left out the end of the second verse "wir trinken sie nachts" in your translation?
The same channel also has some other readings by him.
Thank you for your translation . It is impossible not to be deeply affected reading this work. One can never visit this poem often enough. I am perhaps a bit more partial to his later more elliptical, sometimes impenetrable efforts. Not least because I think these represent the language of the ‘abyss’ or attempts to play out the disaster undergone by language when certain things come to pass. But this is hardly to argue against the extraordinary work you have translated. Yet… in the distance between this and the later ‘crypts’ he designed one can perhaps … perhaps… locate Adorno’s remark.
If and when you do an audio version of this translation I would love for you to read it in German as well.
From his Speech on the Occasion of Receiving the Literature Prize of the Free Hanseatic City of Bremen:
Only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss. But it had to go through its own lack of answers, through terrifying silence, through the thousand darknesses of murderous speech. It went through. It gave me no words for what was happening, but went through it. Went through and could resurface, 'enriched' by it all.
- Paul Celan
Postcard 4
by Miklós Radnóti
his final poem, written October 31, 1944 near Szentkirályszabadja, Hungary
translated by Michael R. Burch
I toppled beside him — his body already taut,
tight as a string just before it snaps,
shot in the back of the head.
"This is how you’ll end too; just lie quietly here,"
I whispered to myself, patience blossoming from dread.
"Der springt noch auf," the voice above me jeered;
I could only dimly hear
through the congealing blood slowly sealing my ear.
Translator's note: "Der springt noch auf" means something like "That one is still twitching."
I have visited the poem several times. First, I read and reread it here. Today, months later, I heard 'Death Fugue' recited in English and German by Timothy Snyder. His voice, weak and tremulous, matched the agony felt in the poem's words. Even while knowing that milk was the sole nourishment given to prisoners in the camps, the 'black milk' of the poem was transmuted in my mind to hardened, days' old clumps of blood. Never have I experienced such ugliness emanating from a poem. I detested it because the pain was unbearable. The cruelty seemed to grew stronger while listening to it recited in German. I saw and felt America with each reading. Although, no Auschwitz or Treblinka, the voices and faces of Trump, DeSantis, Abbott, Gaetz,, Greene, McConnell and Cruz joined the 'Death Fugue' song. Cruelty and lies are not new to America but they are more evident to all who care to know: police brutality, murdered Blacks and Asians, social animosity, hatred, Mario Cuomo, Tucker Carlson... darkness pervades and death is everywhere.
I agree with my whole heart that there is no better way to face Auschwitz truthfully than poetry. The poem, your translation and your readings of both are gripping like iron rods and then again liberating as if I could fly like a piece of ash. Please forgive me asking a small technical question. Is there a reason why you have left out the end of the second verse "wir trinken sie nachts" in your translation?
I’m sure you’ve heard this recitation by Celan:
https://youtu.be/gVwLqEHDCQE
The same channel also has some other readings by him.
Thank you for your translation . It is impossible not to be deeply affected reading this work. One can never visit this poem often enough. I am perhaps a bit more partial to his later more elliptical, sometimes impenetrable efforts. Not least because I think these represent the language of the ‘abyss’ or attempts to play out the disaster undergone by language when certain things come to pass. But this is hardly to argue against the extraordinary work you have translated. Yet… in the distance between this and the later ‘crypts’ he designed one can perhaps … perhaps… locate Adorno’s remark.
If and when you do an audio version of this translation I would love for you to read it in German as well.
It feels hopeless.