Paul Celan Quotes

• Only truthful hands write true poems. I cannot see any basic difference between a handshake and a poem.

  Paul Celan

  Inspirational, Writing, Hands

  Paul Celan, Rosemarie Waldrop (2003). “Collected Prose”, p.26, Psychology Press

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• Reality is not simply there, it does not simply exist: it must be sought out and won.

  Paul Celan

  Reality, Doe

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• who is invisible enough to see you

  Paul Celan

  Invisible, Enough

  Paul Celan (2014). “Breathturn into Timestead: The Collected Later Poetry: A Bilingual Edition”, p.116, Macmillan

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• A nothing
  we were, are, shall
  remain, flowering:
  the nothing--, the
  no one's rose.

  Paul Celan

  Rose, Holocaust, Flowering

  Paul Celan (1972). “Selected poems”, Penguin Books Ltd

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• Read! Read all the time, the understanding will come by itself.

  Paul Celan

  Comprender

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• The heart hid still in the dark, hard as the Philosophers Stone.

  Paul Celan

  Heart, Dark, Stones

  Paul Celan, Rosemarie Waldrop (2003). “Collected Prose”, p.11, Psychology Press

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• He speaks truly who speaks the shade.

  Paul Celan

  Shade, Speak

  Paul Celan (1980). “Paul Celan: poems”

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• A poem, being an instance of language, hence essentially dialogue, may be a letter in a bottle thrown out to the sea with the-surely not always strong-hope that it may somehow wash up somewhere, perhaps on the shoreline of the heart. In this way, too, poems are en route: they are headed towards. Toward what? Toward something open, inhabitable, an approachable you, perhaps, an approachable reality. Such realities are, I think, at stake in a poem.

  Paul Celan

  Strong, Heart, Reality

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• Only one thing remained reachable, close and secure amid all losses: language. Yes, language. In spite of everything, it remained secure against loss.

  Paul Celan

  Loss, Language, Spite

  Paul Celan, Rosemarie Waldrop (2003). “Collected Prose”, p.34, Psychology Press

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• They've healed me to pieces.

  Paul Celan

  Pieces, Healed

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• Don't sign your name between worlds, surmount the manifold of meanings, trust the tearstain, learn to live.

  Paul Celan

  Names, World, Manifold

  Paul. Celan (2011). “Glottal Stop: 101 Poems by Paul Celan”, p.108, Wesleyan University Press

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• There was earth inside them, and they dug.

  Paul Celan

  Tierra

  Paul Celan, Michael Hamburger (1972). “Nineteen poems”

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• Poetry is a sort of homecoming.

  Paul Celan

  Inspirational, Homecoming, Poetry Is

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• There's nothing in the world for which a poet will give up writing, not even he is a Jew and the language of his poems is German.

  Paul Celan

  Giving Up, Writing, World

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• The poem is lonely. It is lonely and en route. Its author stays with it. Does this very fact not place the poem already here, at its inception, in the encounter, in the mystery of encounter?

  Paul Celan

  Lonely, Loneliness, Poetry

  Paul Celan (2005). “Paul Celan: Selections”, p.164, Univ of California Press

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• We are told that when Hölderlin went 'mad,' he constantly repeated, 'Nothing is happening to me, nothing is happening to me.'

  Paul Celan

  Mad, Happenings

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• in the air, there your root remains, there, in the air

  Paul Celan

  Air, Roots, Remains

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• Tal vez la poesía sea esto: un Atemwende, un giro de nuestro aliento. Quién sabe, ¿quizás la poesía sigue su camino -el camino del arte- en aras precisamente de ese giro? Y puesto que lo extraño, el abismo y la cabeza de Medusa, el abismo y el autómata, parecen ir todos en la misma dirección, ¿es acaso este giro, este Atemwende, lo que puede separar lo extraño de lo extraño? ¿Es acaso aquí, en este breve instante, donde la cabeza de Medusa se arruga y el autómata se desploma? ¿Quizás, junto con el yo, enajenado y liberado aquí, de esta manera, alguna otra cosa también es liberada?

  Paul Celan

  Running, Art, Lying

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• The language with which I make my poems has nothing to do with one spoken here, or anywhere.

  Paul Celan

  Idioma

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• German poetry is going in a very different direction from French poetry.... Its language has become more sober, more factual. It distrusts "beauty." It tries to be truthful.

  Paul Celan

  Beauty, Truth, Poetry

  Paul Celan, Rosemarie Waldrop (2003). “Collected Prose”, p.15, Psychology Press

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• Cada flecha que disparas lleva su propio objetivo a la maraña decididamente secreta

  Paul Celan

  Arrows, Secret, Target

  Paul. Celan (2011). “Glottal Stop: 101 Poems by Paul Celan”, p.59, Wesleyan University Press

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• Tall poplars--human beings of this earth!

  Paul Celan

  Earth, Humans, Tall

  Paul Celan (1980). “Paul Celan: poems”

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• A poem, as a manifestation of language and thus essentially dialogue, can be a message in a bottle, sent out in the –not always greatly hopeful-belief that somewhere and sometime it could wash up on land, on heartland perhaps. Poems in this sense too are under way: they are making toward something. Toward what? Toward something standing open, occupiable, perhaps toward an addressable Thou, toward an addressable reality.

  Paul Celan

  Reality, Land, Hopeful

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• Illegibility of this world. All things twice over. The strong clocks justify the splitting hour, hoarsely. You , clamped into your deepest part, climb out of yourself for ever.

  Paul Celan

  Strong, World, Hours

  Paul Celan (1972). “Selected poems”, Penguin Books Ltd

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• How you die out in me: down to the last worn-out knot of breath you're there, with a splinter of life.

  Paul Celan

  Splinters, Lasts, Knots

  Paul Celan (1980). “Paul Celan: poems”

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