With wine and being lost, withless and less of both: I rode through the snow, do you read me. I rode God far--I rode Godnear, he sang, it wasour last ride overthe hurdled humans. They cowered whenthey heard usoverhead, theywrote, theylied our neighinginto one of theirimage-ridden languages.
Paul CelanAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: romanian
- Born: November 23, 1920
- Died: April 20, 1970