Thornbard’s Melencolia III

Doze off in my dreams – covetous delusion, inspire oneself with invisible hopes otherwise.

I stand on the backyard of my little peaceful hut on a cliff. Looking at the ocean way down below. Old faithful dog at my side. My woman warding her house with a tune, singing Rühe Sanft in the kitchen to me, to herself, the night air, the sound of the distant waves and whispers of sweet breeze brushing my ears, and the leaves of the tall trees. The everyday discussion, dispute, negotiations between them and her warding.

The moon glitters brighter in the reflection of every wave than it does in the sky .

Altogether, the symphony of my life.
The journey from Gran Partita to Carmina Burana.

Aspirations – meshed beneath weltschmertz.