In the house
A man is sitting at a half lowered window and he is looking straight ahead.
He does not mind the cold, wet, spring air.
The early-spring sun does not warm his cheeks but rather the partly closed eyelids.
The day is waking up on a light, plain floor with thin stripes of shadows of poles.
A woman is sitting inside the room at a table and is writing – there are bookshelves in the background.
The housekeeper is watering ferns in the orangery.
There are no strangers.
People who like the house so much, and perhaps would like to have it, are still asleep.
It is an early spring morning.
The villa makes a great impression by means of light which is like embracing the whole world with your arms.
It is an attempt to reach with the thought high above the mountains, far away to Davos.
Mies left them for the rest of their life his dream –the house |