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Updated: May 5, 2025
The last person had passed in black silhouette between them and the sea. He was thinking bitterly. She seemed to goad him deeper and deeper into life. He had a sense of despair, a preference of death. The German she read with him she loved its loose and violent romance came back to his mind: 'Der Tod geht einem zur Seite, fast sichtbarlich, und jagt einem immer tiefer ins Leben.
"My dear," she wailed, "aside from the vulgarity of the thing you know that no one ever admits to a real interest in food I am so hungry that if there is any more mention of eating I shall go off in a corner and howl. You know how those adorable German Christmas stories always begin: 'Es war Weinachtsabend. Tiefer Schnee lag am Boden.
You enter the old town of Vienna from Leopoldstadt by the Ferdinand Bridge; and, walking for a few minutes parallel with the river, come into a hollow called the Tiefer Grund; passing next under a broad arch which itself supports a street spanning the gulley, you find on the left hand a rising ground which must be climbed in order to reach a certain open space of a triangular form, walled in by lofty houses, called “Die Freiung,”—the Deliverance.
"Ich schlief, ich schlief, Aus tiefem Schlaf bin ich erwacht: Die Welt ist tief, Und tiefer als der Tag gedacht." the last phrase of which was repeated by the accompaniment, a semitone higher. Tief ist ihr Weh, Lust tiefer noch als Herzeleid: As far as this, the voice had been supported by simple, full-sounding harmonies.
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