Saturday, June 28:
Was it the sounds of Tristan, which Herr R. played as we were getting ready for our meal and which I absorbed greedily, or dreams in the unconsciousness of sleep? Anyway, I awoke in so melancholy a mood that I felt life’s tasks to be beyond all mastering. I believe that every blissful moment that life affords also demands that life should cease.
However, the day sees to it that my mood finds no outlet. The possibility of a fire in our bedroom causes us great merriment; R. then goes to his article, I to house and children. It is very hot; around seven o’clock we drive out to the Bürgerreuth, where we have supper by moonlight. Before that we stopped beside the theater, admired the growth in the surrounding plantations, and recalled the chaotic times when the place was teeming with people.
The sight affects me unutterably; my thoughts are filled with sublime melancholy, R.’s greatness depicted here in all its isolation! He says, “It stands there like a folly, and once I had emperors and princes here.”
My sense of his greatness is almost crushing, for at the same time I am aware of my unworthiness, and the dreamlike melancholy which possessed me this morning now turns into a real burden on my heart; he, the world, I - how could I ever make up for what the world has done to him? The thought that he loves me, that his love for me gives him happiness - this is my refuge from inexpressible emotions. And as if he knows what is going on in my soul, he watches the children, who are rollicking “in a Dionysian sort of way” in the meadow, and speaks of his contentment. Oh, my blessings on all things that give him joy, greetings to thee, thou noble, silent building, symbol of the highest might and the deepest misery! See thou my repentance, my love, and my longing, all in one - Amfortas!