Hofmannsthal and Pater and Novalis knew that music and poetry and time are water.
The ancient Greeks knew it before they did.
Iphigenia most of all.
Afraid, courageous, perhaps afraid of her courage, she was the wisest of them all,
she loved and lived and died and in her sacrifice sang for them all.
Command and cry were not drowned but made the water music as the music gave her voice.
Where is the dignity and sacredness of life and death now, in face of the mistress, in face of Ananke, of Thanatos, from whom we hide?

"so lay me down, let the only sound be the overflow"