Death Fugue.

Death Fugue
After Paul Celan

   Black milk of day-break we're drinking at evening
   we're drinking it middays and mornings we're drinking it nightly
   we're drinking and drinking
   we're shovelling a grave in the high breeze there man lies unbound
   A Man lives in a House he plays with the serpents he writes
   he writes when the dusk covers Germany your golden hair
   Margarete
   he writes it and stands by the house and the stars are all burning
   he whistles his hunting-pack to him
   he whistles his jews here to shove/a grave in the earth
   he commands us start playing now for the dance
   Black milk of day-break we're drinking you nightly
   we're drinking you mornings and middays we're drinking you
   evenings
   we're drinking and drinking
   A Man lives in a House he plays with the serpents he writes
   he writes when the dusk covers Germany your golden hair
   Margarete
   Your ashen hair Sulamith we're shovelling a grave in the high
   breeze there man lies unbound

   He calls pierce deeper in Earth's crust you diggers you others sing
   now and play
   he grips hard the iron on his belt he swings his eyes are blue
   pierce deeper with spade-work you diggers you others play on for
   the dance now

   Black milk of day-break we're drinking you nightly
   we're drinking you middays and mornings we're drinking you
   evenings
   we're drinking and drinking
   a Man lives in a House your golden hair Margarete
   your ashen hair Sulamith he plays with the serpents
   He calls play sweetly to Death this Death is a Master who's German
   he calls stroke the strings darkly then rise up as smoke in the air
   then you'll have a grave in the high clouds there man lies unbound

   Black milk of day-break we're drinking you nightly
   we're drinking you middays this Death is a Master who's German
   we drink you evenings and mornings we're drinking and drinking
   this Death is a Master who's German his eyes are blue
   he strikes you with slugs of lead he strikes you quite true
   a Man lives in a House your gloden hair Margarete
   he sets his hunting-pack onto us and gives us a grave in the air
   he plays with the serpents and daydreams this Death is a Master
   who's German

   your golden hair Margarete
   your ashen hair Sulamith