“In vain I seek
Her footprints in the snow,
Where she walked on my arm
Through the green meadows,
I will kiss the ground
And
pierce ice and snow
With my burning tears,
Until I see the earth.
Where shall I find a flower?
Where shall I find green grass?
The
flowers have died.
The grass looks so pale.
Shall I, then, take
No memento from here?
When my sorrows are stilled
Who will speak
to me of her?
My heart is as dead,
Her image coldly rigid within it;
If my heart ever melts again
Her image, too, will flow away.”
Wilhelm
Müller (1794-1827), Erstarrung (Numbness) from: Die Winterreise
