More fully,
since snow fell even on this
sun-drifted, sun-drenched sea,
blossoms the ice in those baskets
you carry into town.
Sand
you demand in return,
for the last
rose back at home
this evening also wants to be fed
out of the trickling hour.
Paul Celan [Paul Antschel] (1920 - 1970) Romania
Translated by Michael Hamburger
Source: word pond
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