Paul Celan, a Jewish native speaker of German, comes to our rescue. By his existence and with the faint breathturn1 of his poetry, he tried to show that writing poetry after Auschwitz was not barbaric, but a necessary act. He returns to incite us today, asking us if ‘song’ and ‘languages’ (poetry, literature, philosophy, art, music, cinema) are only useless and fragile relicts, or the possibility to hold on, making pennants, and bridges toward a ‘you’. We will follow, on a first level, the philosophical interpretation of H. G. Gadamer3 and try to weave ‘onto’ it the questions that the current scenarios provoke and lay bare. «In the space of three short verses the scene of a shipwreck is described, but from the beginning it becomes an unreal image. It is a shipwreck that takes place in heaven» – writes Gadamer, who associates the poetic image to the pictorial one of the painter Caspar David Friedrich: The Sea of Ice
