I feel it again and again, no mattcr Whether I am old or young: A mountain range in the night, On the balcony a silent woman, A white street in the moonliglht curving gently away That tears my heart with longing out of my body. Oh burning world, oh white woman on the balcony, Baying dog in the valley, train rolling far away, What liars you were, how bitterly you deceived me, Yet you turn out to be any sweetest dream and illusion. Often I tried the frightening way of "reality," Where things that count are profession, law, fashion, finance. But disillusioned and freed I fled away alone To the other side, the place of dreams and blessed folly. Sultry wind in the tree at night, dark gypsy woman, World full of foolish yearning and the poet's breath, Glorious world I always come back to, Where your heat lightning beckons me, where your voice calls!
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Hesse - the stellar novelist - is also quite a poet. Who painted that hauntingly appropriate picture of the landscape and solitary figure?
Let's all be fools to love and beauty!