Quotes from Nelly Sachs

We mothers rock into the heart of the world the melody of peace.

To me, a fairy tale seems to have become reality.

Bewitched is half of everything.

World, they have taken the small children like butterflies and thrown them, beating their wings, into the fire--

World, they have taken the small children like butterflies and thrown them, beating their wings, into the fire--

You remember the footprint All that is forgotten you remember from eternity You remember the footprint which filled with death As the myrmidon approached. You remember the child's trembling lips As they had to learn their farewell to their mother. You remember the mother's hands which scooped out a grave For the child which had starved at her breast. You remember the mindless words That a bride spoke into the air to her dead bridegroom.

Always there where children die stone and star and so many dreams become homeless.

The Woman Who Forgot Everything But in old age all drifts in blurred immensities. The little things fly off and up like bees. You forgot all the words and forgot the object too; And reached your enemy a hand where roses and nettles grew.

Our bodies continue to lament With their mutilated music.

We orphans We lament to the world: Stones have become our playthings, Stones have faces, father and mother faces They wilt not like flowers, nor bite like beasts-- And burn not like tinder when tossed into the oven-- We orphans we lament to the world: World, why have you taken our soft mothers from us And the fathers who say: My child, you are like me! We orphans are like no one in the world any more! O world We accuse you!

Chorus of Clouds We are full of sighs, full of glances, We are full of laughter And sometimes we wear your faces. We are not far from you. Who knows how much of your blood rose And stained us? Who knows how many tears you have shed Because of our weeping? How much longing formed us? We play at dying, Accustom you gently to death. You, the inexperienced, who learn nothing in the nights. Many angels are given you But you do not see them.

We are so stricken We are so stricken that we think we're dying when the street casts an evil word at us. The street does not know it, but it cannot stand such a weight; it is not used to seeing a Vesuvius of pain break out. Its memories of primeval times are obliterated, since the light became artificial and angels only play with birds and flowers or smile in a child's dream

Apretad, oh apretad sobre el día de la destrucción sobre la tierra el oído en escucha, y oiréis, a través del sueño oiréis como en la muerte comienza la vida.

We breathed the air of freedom without knowing the language or any person.

O the chimneysOn the ingeniously devised habitations of deathWhen Israel's body drifted as smokeThrough the air—Was welcomed by a star, a chimney sweep,A star that turned blackOr was it a ray of sun?

We, the rescued,Beg you:Show us your sun, but gradually.Lead us from star to star, step by step.Be gentle when you teach us to live again.

A stranger always hashis homeland in his armslike an orphanfor which he may be seekingnothing but a grave.