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Paul Celan: Death Fugue
Black milk of dawn we drink it in the evening
we drink it at noon and in the morning we drink it
at night
we drink and drink
we dig a grave in the air where you’re not closed in
A man lives in the house who plays with snakes and
writes
he writes to Germany as it darkens
your golden hair Margareta
He writes it and walks from the house and the stars
flash
he whistles for his dogs
he whistles for his Jews let’s dig a grave in the
earth
he orders us to play for the dance
Black milk of dawn we drink you at night
we drink you in the morning and at noon we drink you
in the evening
we drink and drink
A man lives in the house who plays with snakes and
writes
he writes to Germany as it darkens
your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Sulamith
we dig a grave in the air where you’re not closed in
He shouts you here dig deeper into the earth and you
over there
sing and play
He grabs the iron in his belt he swings it his eyes
are blue
You here push the spades deeper you others keep playing
for the dance
Black milk of dawn we drink you at night
we drink you at noon and in the morning we drink you
in the evening
we drink and drink
a man lives in the house your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Sulamith he plays with snakes
He shouts play death more sweetly death is a master
from Germany
he shouts play the violins darker then you will rise
as smoke in the air
then you’ll have a grave in the clouds where you’re
not closed in
Black milk of dawn we drink you at night
we drink you at noon death is a master from Germany
we drink you in the evening and in the morning we drink
and drink
death is a master from Germany his eye is blue
he hits you with the leaden ball he hits you point blank
a man lives in the house your golden hair Margarete
he sets his dogs on us he gives us a grave in the sky
he plays with snakes and dreams death is a master from
Germany
your golden hair Margarete
your ashen hair Sulamith
Translated by Michael Simms. With thanks to Eva-Maria Simms for her suggestions.
Todesfuge
Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken sie abends
wir trinken sie mittags und morgens wir trinken
sie nachts
wir trinken und trinken
wir schaufeln ein Grab in den Lüften da liegt man
nicht eng
Ein Mann wohnt im Haus der spielt mit den Schlangen
der schreibt
der schreibt wenn es dunkelt nach Deutschland
dein goldenes Haar Margarete
er schreibt es und tritt vor das Haus und es blitzen
die Sterne
er pfeift seine Rüden herbei
er pfeift seine Juden hervor läßt schaufeln ein Grab
in der Erde
er befiehlt uns spielt auf nun zum Tanz
Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken dich nachts
wir trinken dich morgens und mittags wir trinken
dich abends
wir trinken und trinken
Ein Mann wohnt im Haus der spielt mit den Schlangen
der schreibt
der schreibt wenn es dunkelt nach Deutschland
dein goldenes Haar Margarete
Dein aschenes Haar Sulamith
wir schaufeln ein Grab in den Lüften da liegt man
nicht eng
Er ruft stecht tiefer ins Erdreich ihr einen ihr
andern singet und spielt
er greift nach dem Eisen im Gurt er schwingts seine
Augen sind blau
stecht tiefer die Spaten ihr einen ihr anderen spielt
weiter zum Tanz auf
Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken dich nachts
wir trinken dich mittags und morgens wir trinken dich
abends
wir trinken und trinken
ein Mann wohnt im Haus dein goldenes Haar Margarete
dein aschenes Haar Sulamith er spielt mit den Schlangen
Er ruft spielt süßer den Tod der Tod ist ein Meister
aus Deutschland
er ruft streicht dunkler die Geigen dann steigt ihr als
Rauch in die Luft
dann habt ihr ein Grab in den Wolken da liegt man nicht
eng
Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken dich nachts
wir trinken dich mittags der Tod ist ein Meister aus
Deutschland
wir trinken dich abends und morgens wir trinken und
trinken
der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland sein Auge
ist blau
er trifft dich mit bleierner Kugel er trifft dich
genau
ein Mann wohnt im Haus dein goldenes Haar Margarete
er hetzt seine Rüden auf uns er schenkt uns ein Grab
in der Luft
er spielt mit den Schlangen und träumet der Tod ist ein
Meister aus Deutschland
dein goldenes Haar Margarete
dein aschenes Haar Sulamith
Paul Celan (1920–1970)
Paul Antschel, who wrote under the pseudonym Paul Celan, was born in Czernovitz, Romania. The son of German-speaking Jews, Celan grew up speaking several languages, including Romanian, Russian, and French. He also understood Yiddish. He studied medicine in Paris in 1938, but returned to Romania shortly before the outbreak of World War II. His parents were deported and eventually died in Nazi labor camps; Celan himself was interned for eighteen months before escaping to the Red Army.
After the war, he lived in Bucharest and Vienna before settling in Paris in 1948 to study German philology and literature. He took his Licence des Lettres in 1950, and in 1952 he married the graphic artist Gisele de Lestrange. They had a son, Eric, in 1955.
Celan’s first book was published in 1947; it received very little critical attention. However, his second book, Mohn und Gedaechtnis (Poppy and Memory, 1952), garnered tremendous acclaim and helped to establish his reputation. Among his most well-known and often-anthologized poems from this time is “Death Fugue” which offers a stark evocation of life in the Nazi death camps.
In 1959, Celan took a job as a reader in German Language and Literature at the University of Paris, a position he would hold until his death in 1970. During the 1960s he published more than six books of poetry and gained international fame. In addition to his own poems, he remained active as a translator, bringing out works from writers such as Henri Michaux, Osip Mandelstam, Rene Char, Paul Valéry, and Fernando Pessoa. In 1970, Celan died by suicide. He is regarded as one of the most important poets to emerge from post-World War II Europe. [adapted from Academy of American Poets]
Translation and compilation copyright 2020 Michael Simms. Original poem in German copyright 1952 Paul Celan. Included in Vox Populi for educational uses only.
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