In Brest, before hoops of flame,
In the tent where the tiger leapt,
there, Finite, I heard you sing,
there I saw you, Mandelstam.
The sky hung above the roadtead
the hull hung above the crane.
What is finit sang, what is constant -
you, gunboat, are called "Baobab".
I saluted the tricolore
speaking a Russian word -
things lost were things not lost,
the heart was a place made fast.
Paul Celan, Poems of Paul Celan, Michael Hamburger (trad.), Persea Books, 1995.
(Neste blogue tem-se transcrito poemas de Mandelstam, lembrei-me disto.)
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