WHICHEVER STONE YOU LIFT
Whichever stone you lift—
you lay bare
those in need of the stones' shelter:
naked,
they now renew the intertwining.
Whichever tree you fell—
you craft
the bedstead on which
the souls clot up again,
as if this eon too did not
convulse.
Whichever word you speak—
you thank
perdition.
-Paul Celan
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