Mrs  Auberger is going to die.

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.