Request (Bitte)

Request – (Bitte)
Hilde Domin

We are dipped
and washed with the waters of the Fludde,
we are soaked
up to the skin of the heart.

The wish for landscape
on this side of the border of tears
is useless,
the wish to hold onto the spring of blossoms,
the wish to be spared,
is useless

What is of use is the request,
that at sunrise the dove bring
a twig of the olive tree.
That the fruit be as colorful as the blossom,
That even the petals of the rose on the ground
form a shining crown.

And that we be released out of the flood,
out of the lion pit and the fiery oven
evermore burnt and evermore healed
ever anew
to ourselves.