Taste redness, smell lulling white winds,
look at it in the universe: sun.
Gaze at stars yellow and glittering
till you feel good and have to shut out the blinking.
Brainworlds sparkle in your caves.
— Egon Schiele, from “sun,” Ich ewiges Kind (I, Eternal Child). Gedichte, Vienna/Munich (2) 1985. p. 24