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The rising , produces an indescribable effect It seeleaured, and seeht

Once when I was returning fro to the house, I suddenly saoure, white as stone, under the illumination of the moon and separated from me merely by a screen of trees It seemed as if the beautiful woman of marble had taken pity on me, become alive, and followed me I was seized by a nameless fear, my heart threatened to burst, and instead-Well, I am a dilettante As always, I broke down at the second stanza; rather, on the contrary, I did not break down, but ran away as fast as h a Jew, dealing in photographs I secured a picture of my ideal It is a small reproduction of Titian's "Venus with the Mirror" What a woman! I want to write a poem, but instead, I take the reproduction, and write on it: Venus in Furs

You are cold, while you yourself fan flames By all means wrap yourself in your despotic furs, there is no one to whooddess of love and of beauty!--After a while I add a few verses from Goethe, which I recently found in his paralipos a fiction are, The arrows, they are naught but claws, The wreath conceals the little horns, For without any doubt he is Like all the gods of ancient Greece Only a devil in disguise"

Then I put the picture beforeit with a book, and looked at it

I was enraptured and at the sae fear by the cold coquetry hich this nificent woman draped her charms in her furs of dark sable; by the severity and hardness which lay in this cold ain I tookwords: "To love, to be loved, what happiness! And yet how the gla bliss of worshipping a wo the slave of a beautiful tyrant who treads us pitilessly underfoot Even Saain put himself into the hands of Delilah, even after she had betrayed hiain she betrayed him, and the Philistines bound him and put out his eyes which until the very end he kept fixed, drunken with rage and love, upon the beautiful betrayer"