For one week now, Dr.Auberger doesn´t speak anymore.
She doesn´t eat or drink no more.
On a coffee-table, an old book with poems by Heinrich Heine.
It´s the only book in this last refuge of the old lady.
I don´t know what to do for her.
She doesn´t seem to be around anymore.
I pick up this worn out volume,
and start reading out loud.
Then I quit.
Dr. Auberger lifts her hand,
maybe she just said good bye.