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Siena, September 6, 1897
Dear Wilhelm,
From Venice (received your letter) via Pisa, Livorno, to Siena. As you know, in Italy I am seeking a punch made of Lethe;1 here and there I get a draft. One savors the strange kind of beauty and the enormous creative urge; at the same time my inclination toward the grotesque, perverse-psychological gets its due. I have much to tell you about (which from now on will be a catchword between us). Next goal: Orvieto; in between San Gimignano. It will be difficult for your answer to reach me; so enjoy the signs of life from my journey, which make no demands on you.
Cordial greetings to I.F. [and] R.W.
Your
Sigm
The dead drank from Lethe, the river of forgetfulness, upon their arrival in the underworld.