If only the first one were not precisely like the second, if he were calm, if he would only pretend not to look at the other, if he slowly set the room in order as though it were a room like any other but instead he does exactly the same as the other at his door, sometimes even both are behind the doors and the the beautiful room is empty.”Īlberto Ginastera (1916 – 1983) : Milena (1971), Op.37,ĭramatic cantata for soprano and orchestra He’s sure to open the door again for it’s a room which perhaps one cannot leave. “Sometimes I have the feeling that we’re in one room with two opposite doors and each of us holds the handle of one door, one of us flicks an eyelash and the other is already behind his door, and now the first one has but to utter a word ad immediately the second one has closed his door behind him and can no longer be seen. German is my mother tongue and as such more natural to me, but I consider Czech much more affectionate, which is why your letter removes several uncertainties I see you more clearly, the movements of your body, your hands, so quick, so resolute, it’s almost like a meeting even so, when I then want to raise my eyes to your face, in the middle of the letter – what a story! – fire breaks out and I see nothing but fire.” Dear Frau Milena (yes, this heading is becoming burdensome, although it is something to cling to in this uncertain world, like a crutch for sick people but it’s no sign of recovery when the crutches grow to be a burden), I have never lived among Germans.
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