When I see an enchanting piece of art I think of you: For truly what is art if it is not to remind me of you, of pain and remedy, both, I find in your eyes.
Each time I look at golden periods of art, following one another on the history charts – I like these charts, they make it easier to see ups and downs of our performances in this world – I think of you, your splendid mind and your fiery eyes.
I study these pages of often-tiresome history books only to find you and to keep you in my ever-fading memory. It is you I am searching for.