If I do, I must do so with caution, since this is what it means to read, to give up the self and yield to the alien voice, obeying it, in this instance a voice created by a Paul Celan, a human being long since dead but who in these words and their fine shades of meaning emerges into view, an I directed toward a you, which I, more than fifty years after it was written, endeavor to identify with.
