- ‘It will come, one day, that hour that will envelope you in a golden cloud where is no pain; where the soul has the enjoyment of its own weariness and, happy in a patient game with its own patience, is like the waves of a lake which, reflecting the colours of an evening sky on a quite summer`s day, lap and lap against the bank and then are still again – without end, without aim, without satiation, without desire – all repose that rejoices in change, all ebbing back and flooding forward with the pulse beat of nature’. This is how all invalids feel and speak; but if they do attain to that hour there arrives, after brief enjoyment, boredom. This, however, is a thawning wind for the frozen will: it awaken, stirs itself, and again engenders wish upon wish. – To wish is a sign of recovery improvement.
Human, all to Human Vol. II.
Part One “Assorted Opinions and Maxims”
Through the open window I can see
The tiny clouds hovering in the sky
The wind is blowing, my nose is freezing
… a few exhaust pipes are spluttering.
Ah, the sun is going down
Red and gold, as it should be
I look down to the street below
And see a friend standing there
Suddenly my heart feels heavy
I just need to see birds fluttering
And my eyes turn up to the sky
How it jurts my soul – how beautiful!
Nature in the evening, a peaceful town
Tormented soul, the tears flow
It all makes me feel so feeble
And makes the tears flow even more