Fliegt der Schnee mir ins Gesicht,
Schüttl' ich ihn herunter.
Wenn mein Herz im Busen spricht,
Sing' ich hell und munter.
Höre nicht, was es mir sagt,
Habe keine Ohren;
Fühle nicht, was es mir klagt,
Klagen ist für Toren.
Anthony's recital last night was a remarkable accomplishment. Few undergraduate students will attempt the work; far fewer will present the work with as much class and musicianship. As far as I could tell (and I paid close attention), Anthony didn't miss a single German syllable in the entire 24-song cycle.
It's not just that he did it . . . it was how he did it. His consonants were splendid. You could tell that he carefully studied each word and each phrase. He sang the message of each song with understanding and careful nuance.It was a wonderful evening of messages and music.
If the snow flies in my face,
I shake it off again.
When my heart speaks in my breast,
I sing loudly and gaily.
I don't hear what it says to me,
I have no ears to listen;
I don't feel when it laments,
Complaining is for fools.