DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27180#0190
PYRAMID AND TEMPLE
Her husband takes the oh-how-pretty view of life and
won’t risk his life over out-of-the-way things. The Jger is a
scamp, of course, but useful enough. He will take him
hunting big game up the White Nile. I can join them, if I
care to. Babuschka is entitled ‘young lady’; she can come too.
‘Bohn,’ says Frau Behn, ‘don’t be so improper!’
She suffers on her husband’s account. Egon is a genius,
of course, but he has no psychic sense and so no sense of
reality such as natures like herself possess. She has stroggled
with it.
‘Egon, too, I assure you, is pathotic.’
After this I took Babuschka away to our terrace under
the stars, and the evening thickened round us.
Then Frau Behn called to her swain:
‘Oh, Egon . . .,
If only you were what I wanted,
And I were what you wanted, too;
Oh, Egon,
We should, I fancy, prove inconstant -
You to me, and I to you.’
The tombs dating from the Middle Kingdom on the
opposite bank of the Nile belonged to provincial grandees
and are nothing special. The guardian, a nice man with a
blind eye that reminded us of Ibrahim, showed them to us
thoroughly, but the view over the Nile valley diminished our
interest in the rock-caves. We climbed the heights and gazed
at the panorama, and here it was that Babuschka made her
discovery. While I was admiring the palette of the evening
sky she amused herself as she lay in the warm yellow sand
by letting it run through her fingers. This gradually irritated
me, for this playful occupation seemed out of key with the
nobility of the panorama and jarred on my enthusiasm. I
know it’s her way to pour cold water on one’s enthusiasm;
170
Her husband takes the oh-how-pretty view of life and
won’t risk his life over out-of-the-way things. The Jger is a
scamp, of course, but useful enough. He will take him
hunting big game up the White Nile. I can join them, if I
care to. Babuschka is entitled ‘young lady’; she can come too.
‘Bohn,’ says Frau Behn, ‘don’t be so improper!’
She suffers on her husband’s account. Egon is a genius,
of course, but he has no psychic sense and so no sense of
reality such as natures like herself possess. She has stroggled
with it.
‘Egon, too, I assure you, is pathotic.’
After this I took Babuschka away to our terrace under
the stars, and the evening thickened round us.
Then Frau Behn called to her swain:
‘Oh, Egon . . .,
If only you were what I wanted,
And I were what you wanted, too;
Oh, Egon,
We should, I fancy, prove inconstant -
You to me, and I to you.’
The tombs dating from the Middle Kingdom on the
opposite bank of the Nile belonged to provincial grandees
and are nothing special. The guardian, a nice man with a
blind eye that reminded us of Ibrahim, showed them to us
thoroughly, but the view over the Nile valley diminished our
interest in the rock-caves. We climbed the heights and gazed
at the panorama, and here it was that Babuschka made her
discovery. While I was admiring the palette of the evening
sky she amused herself as she lay in the warm yellow sand
by letting it run through her fingers. This gradually irritated
me, for this playful occupation seemed out of key with the
nobility of the panorama and jarred on my enthusiasm. I
know it’s her way to pour cold water on one’s enthusiasm;
170