Monday, January 22:
Lyons.
Good signs, Cosima! — in dreadful spirits I stepped out through the window on to the balcony. Night. — Slim crescent moon! — on the left, the sword of Orion with the point turned towards north-east. Cut, cut, my sword, so that a King’s heart may feel what real sufferings are! — — I felt ill — and believed myself unable to continue my journey. — Now I am making up my mind, and shall travel into the night — tomorrow by the sea;8? —
You it was who first mentioned this refuge to me. What a feeling I have to be seeing this Lyons again — I saw it in 1850! — Ah, I ought finally to have become wise, — these childish monstrous cities — like a thousand-voice Italian unison opera! Not a trace of life! — How shall I endure turning up at such places again and again! — yet, Orion’s sword! — It must be! —