"The mild sun rests on every ditch,"
“Oh the blackness is murderous
and the milk tip is brimming
and each machine is working
and I will kiss you when
I cut up one dozen new men
and you will die somewhat,
again and again.”
- Anne Sexton, “Again and Again and Again”
The world is gone, I must carry you.
— Paul Celan, from “Vast, glowing vault” (trans. Michael Hamburger)