I have hung my lute on the wall
And tied it with a green ribbon
I don’t sing my songs any more;
my heart is so full that I can’t find the words.
Once my longing and loneliness poured out in song
But now my joy is so great that no sound can contain it.
Now rest here, my lute
And when the wind stirs your strings
I wonder, Is it the final echo of my songs
Or the prelude of more songs to come?
A paraphrase of a beautiful song from Schubert’s Die Schone Mullerin. And a rather appropriate description of why there have been so few posts over the last month or so…