They glided in with such a light and nimble tread that they scarcely left a footprint behind them, and built them- selves a little prison in the golden grain, which towered up so high above their heads when they sat down that they could see nothing in the world but the azure sky above. They embraced and kissed each other incessantly, until they finally became tired, or whatever one chooses to call it when the kissing of two lovers outlives itself for a moment or two and, right in the intoxication of the flowering season, ominously suggests the transitoriness of all life.
–A Village Romeo and Juliet, Gottfried Keller
I went over to the window. She too stood up and looked at me. Her eyes were steady and grave, and for a long time she did not avert them.
“Don’t you remember that time in the garden?” I asked.
“Yes, I remember.”
“Helene, that day I thought you loved me. And now I have to go.”
–The Marble Works, Hermann Hesse
“Walk to the Paradise Garden,” from the opera A Village Romeo and Juliet by Frederick Delius; Sir Andrew Davis conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra at Last Night of the Proms 2000
