Author Paul Celan On my Right ā who? The Death-Woman. And you, on my Left, you? The Wandering-Sickles in extra- heavenly Place mime themselves grey-white Moon-Swallows, together, Star-Swifts, I plunge there and pour an Urnful down onto you, in you. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments