1. To Oskar Pollak (Liboch, Autumn, 1902)
It’s a strange time I’ve been spending here, as you must have noticed, and I needed a strange time like this, a time in which I lie for hours on a vineyard wall and stare into the rain clouds which don’t want to leave here, or into the wide fields, which grown even wider when you have a rainbow in your eyes, or where I sit.
2. To Oskar Pollak (1903)
It might have been more sensible for me to have waited with this letter until I saw you and knew what the two months have made of you, for these summer months move me—I think—a goo way along. And then too this summer I haven’t received…
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