“I think of you, of the lake, of the city, of the burning days on the shore, in the sand, of the shadowy paths, of the musical breath of the air. The water is quiet, blue, I’d like to lie in a boat in the reeds, I don’t want to speak, everything around me will tell you what I’m sensing.”

“I think of you, of the lake, of the city, of the burning days on the shore, in the sand, of the shadowy paths, of the musical breath of the air. The water is quiet, blue, I’d like to lie in a boat in the reeds, I don’t want to speak, everything around me will tell you what I’m sensing.”

— Ingeborg Bachmann