The fact is, I can’t give up sleeping with the window open. Electric tramcars with all their bells ringing rage through my room. Automobiles drive across me. A door slams. Somewhere glass from a broken window clatters to the ground. I can hear the big pieces laughing and the little splinters sniggering. Then suddenly a dull muffled sound from inside a house on the other side. Someone’s coming up the stairs. Coming, coming, on and on, is there for a long time, goes past. Back in the street. A girl shrieks: ‘Ah, tais-toi, je ne veux plus!’ The tram, mad with excitement, races up, and across, and away. Someone is calling. People are running, overtaking one another. A dog barks. What a relief: a dog. Toward morning there’s even a cock crowing, and what a boundless blessing it is. Then, abruptly, I fall asleep.
— The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, Rainer Maria Rilke
Artwork:
Manet, E. (1876). Head of the dog “Bob”. [Oil on canvas]. Retrieved from Christie’s.