“All springs begin in this way, from those enormous and astounding horoscopes, each beyond the scale of a single season of the year. And in each one—be it nevermore said, let me say it here—there is everything: endless processions and demonstrations, revolutions and barricades. And through them all at a certain moment, the hot wind of remembrance blows, that boundlessness of sadness and intoxication seeking in vain its counterpart in reality.”

—  Bruno Schulz

“Spring” http://www.schulzian.net/translation/sanatorium/spring01.htm
His father, The seasons

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Bruno Schulz 34
Polish novelist and painter 1892–1942

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