There is a Land that’s Lost,
Moon waxes in its Reeds,
and all that’s turned to frost
with us, burns there and sees.
It sees, for it has Eyes,
Earths they are, and bright.
Night, Night, Alkalis.
It sees, this Child of Sight.
It sees, it sees, we see,
I see you, you too see.
Ice will rise again before
This Hour shall cease to be.
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Comments about this poem (Ice, Eden by Paul Celan )
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