Saturday Poem


—after ‘Irisch’ by Paul Celan

Grant me the wayleave
across the draw-bridge to your sleep,
the by-your-leave
to wend the wild meanders of your dreams,
the privilege, now I’m fit, to split the turf
along your breast’s incline
come dawn.

by Paula Cunningham
from Heimlich's Manoeuvre
Smith/Doorstop, Sheffield, 2013,



Grant me the right of way
over the cornstair to your sleep,
right of way
over the path of sleep,
the right to cut turf
on the shelf of the heart,
come morning.

by Paul Celan