No-man kneads us again out of Earth and Loam, <br />no-man spirits our Dust. <br />No-man. <br /> <br />Praise to you, No-man. <br />For love of you <br />we will flower. <br />Moving <br />towards you. <br /> <br />A Nothing <br />we were, we are, we shall <br />be still, flowering: <br />the Nothing-, the <br />No-man’s-rose. <br /> <br />With <br />our Pistil soul-bright, <br />our Stamen heaven-torn, <br />our Corolla red <br />with the Violet-Word that we sang <br />over, O over <br />the thorn.<br /><br />Paul Celan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/psalm-2/
