Lou Andreas Salomé was disciple, collaborator and at last colleague psychoanalyst of Freud. In a picture she's driving a cart towed by her friends Nietzsche and Reé together. She was joking, but only to a certain extent.
Where are, Mrs Andreas, who were everywhere?
Where a weak fine poet was, you were with him.
You played a male role and a life to share,
People had to draw your cart and become slim.
Then Mr Freud came on stage...Was that all you needed?
He gave you his confidential letters and advices: it had to happen,
But you liked money and your husband had to be enough.
Histerya and obsessiveness became clear and this was spice.
Your picture appears to us in a faded daguerreotype:
There must remain, we love another type.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem