<celan's "memory of france"> 2004-09-27.9:56 p.m. Memory Of France Paul Celan Together with me recall: the sky of Paris, that giant autumn crocus... We went shopping for hearts at the flower girl's booth: they were blue and they opened up in the water. It began to rain in our room, and our neighbour came in, Monsieur Le Songe, a lean little man. We played cards, I lost the irises of my eyes; you lent me your hair, I lost it, he struck us down. He left by the door, the rain followed him out. We were dead and were able to breathe. back /& forth /& frosting names are often sad