Along with my stone
like a great tear that fell
in the back of the shutters,

they hauled me
in the dust of a market,
that place
where a flag was unrolled
to which I never had sworn.

Flutes,
double-flutes of the night:
remember the dark
and twin redness
Madrid and Vienna.

Memory,
set up your flag at half-mast
At half-mast
today and forever.


Paul Celan, from "Shibboleth"