BRENNENDE LIEBE —1904 Dearest love: The roses are in bloom again, cream and rose, to either side of the brick walk. I pass among them with my white umbrella as the sun beats down upon the oval plots like pools in the grass, willows and the grove of statuary. So the days go by. Fine days I take my tea beneath the elm half turned, as though you were beside me saying Flowers that could take your breath away … And always on the tray a rose, and always the sun branded on the river and the men in summer suits, in linen, and the girls, their skirts circled in shadow … Last night I dreamed that you
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