Der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland – Paul Celan Todesfuge They hold the land in the dust of our houses.
As dusk falls they bring out ancestral maps and command that we follow their lines on the land.
They command that we wait at their checkpoints, they heft our worth in the steel at their belts, they trap thirst in the iron of their gates.
A man farms the land you once owned, Khadija, he waters your mulberry tree from clear pools.
He herds us in rubble, makes dust of the wells.
Remember the clear pools, Ibrahim.
Thirst is a settler in Palestine, he takes and he takes, he stands at his checkpoints with iron, he commands that we wait in the hot sun.
A man studies old maps in the strength of his house he sets lines on the land, he builds walls around water he covers our crops with ashes. Your mulberry tree, Khadija.
He pipes the rain to his houses, thirst is a settler in Palestine, he daydreams of Zion, he strips us at checkpoints, he commands that we wait, he commands that we walk for our water. Your clear pools, Ibrahim.
We dig graves in the dust of our houses thirst is a settler in Palestine he shatters our wells he shuts gates at checkpoints he takes and he takes he lives in a strong house with his tanks as dusk falls he makes us wait as he daydreams in iron he herds us in rubble thirst is a settler in Palestine your mulberry tree Khadija your clear pools Ibrahim.
Barbara Cumbers Barbara Cumbers lives in London where she works as a librarian and geologist.She has had poems in various magazines,including Rialto,Smith’s Knoll,Acumen and Poetry London.
Barbara Celan's Holocaust poem Todesfuge can be read in a superb translation by Michael Hamburger: Death Fugue in Poems of Paul Celan, 3rd edition, Anvil Press, London 2007.