"Death is the master from Germany", Paul? Celan's poems once pierced me like spikes. I once named him "Spider Poet", which means that he is a master at weaving dead cobwebs. His life and death are intertwined, and death is also the most basic and darkest theme in his poems.
Celan 1920 was born in a German-speaking Jewish family. 1942, my father died in a concentration camp due to forced labor and typhoid fever; Later, his mother was shot by the Nazis-her neck was pierced. 1On April 20th, 970, Celan committed suicide by jumping into the Seine.
1952, he published his first collection of poems, Poppies and Memories, in which the poem Death Fugue shocked the desolate poetic circles in post-war West Germany.
"This poem not only contains a strong accusation of Nazi violence and evil nature ('Death is the master from Germany'), but also contains its unique paradoxical rhetoric ('We drink black milk in the morning at night') and high-level music organization skills ... Will there be music after Auschwitz concentration camp? The famous philosopher Adorno once asked this question. It is in this historical context that Celan's death fugue has become a writing symbol of death, violence and nothingness. "(Wang Jiaxin)
Death fugue
Paul Seran (Romanian), translated by Kitajima.
Black milk in the morning, we drink it at night, at noon and morning, at night, drinking and drinking. We dig graves in the air, and the people in that house are quite spacious. He plays with snakes, he writes letters, and when dusk falls in Germany, you blonde Margaret writes letters and walks out of the house. The stars twinkled, he whistled to recall the hounds, he whistled to summon his Jews to dig graves, and he ordered us to play dance music. Drink black milk in the morning and me at night. We drink at noon in the morning and at night. People in that house play with snakes. He writes letters. When dusk falls in Germany, you have blond hair, Margaret, and you have white hair. We lay in the air and dug graves. He screamed and dug deeper. You sing. He grabbed the pistol at his waist. He blinked and continued to dig. You continue to play dance music with shovels. We drink black milk in the morning. Drinking at night, we drink at noon, in the morning, at night, at night. People in that house, Margaret with blonde hair and Shu ramiz with gray hair, are playing with snakes. He screamed and played death beautifully. The death came from Germany. He screamed for you to play the piano darker. You are like smoke rising into the sky. You have a grave in the clouds, and there is quite spacious black milk in the morning. We drink it at night. We drink it at noon. The death came from Germany. Master China: We drink at night and in the morning. We drink and drink. Death is a master from Germany. His eyes are blue. He shot you with lead. He aimed at the people in that house. You are blonde Margaret. He released the hounds and pounced on us. He promised us an air grave. He plays with snakes and dreams. Death is a master from Germany. You are blonde Margaret. You are Shu ramiz with gray hair.
Appendix:
Spider poet
Wang (June 29, 2005)
A poet, an industrious spider, carefully weaves a transparent web of language, in which he unconsciously dies.
The halo of dew, the shadow of leaves, the endless forest, and the new beginning of the spider's beautiful life, what can I expect in this life?
As dusk approaches, the night sinks, countless eyes, the impact of spiders is silent, spiders swallow themselves up, and empty spider webs hang up the dawn.
Sunlight passes through the forest, looking at cobwebs, poets die, and poetry is born.
Poets never eat in a half-acre garden, visit Banpo ruins, live in a villa in Banshan, or visit Bancheng Lake.
The poet is drunk and dreams of death, the poet sends a boat, the poet cries out a way, and the poet saves with death.
Paul Seran, my Jewish brother, my German friend,
How many tears were there in your smile when you were forced into exile?
How many smiles are there in your tears when you die?
In the queue of dead poets, paul celan walked leisurely, with a long shadow behind him.