<celan's "count up the almonds"> 2003-05-09.8:53 p.m. Count up the almonds Paul Celan Count up the almonds, count what was bitter and kept you waking, count me in too: I sought your eye when you looked out and no one saw you, I spun that secret thread where the dew you mused on slid down to pitchers tended by a word that reached no one's heart. There you first fully entered the name that is yours, you stepped toward yourself on steady feet, the hammers swung free in the belfry of your silence, things overheard thrust through to you, what's dead put its arm around you too, and the three of you walked through the evening. Render me bitter. Number me among the almonds. back /& forth /& frosting names are often sad