Die Sonn ist unten, der Tag entwich.
Wie schnell nun heran der Abend graut.
Mir ist es recht, sonst ist mir's zu laut.
Jetzt aber ist's ruhig, es hämmert kein Schmied,
Kein Klempner, das Volk verlief, und ist müd.
Und selbst, daß nicht rassle der Wagen Lauf,
Zog Decken der Schnee durch die Gassen auf.
The poet, Gottfried von Leitner, describes an industrial scene, normally full of noise and activity. Blacksmiths, tinsmiths, rattling wagons. This is an industrial landscape. But now the sun has set and heavy snow is falling, muffling all sound. The city is deserted, anonymous under a blanket of snow. The protagonist sits alone in the dark. Then the song becomes truly magical. Is it moonlight that fills the room with magic, or is it a memory of someone now lost who returns in silence to cheer the one she (presumably) left behind? Earthly struggles are forgotten in this peaceful repose. Ist gar ein stiller, ein lieber Besuch, Macht mir gar keine Unruh im Haus. Schubert's setting of Der Winterabend (D938, 1828) makes much of stillness and inward contemplation. I've written about this song many times, like HERE, but there's so much in it, there's always room for more this week on snow and on Schubert - scroll down or see; Cold Song, Der Gondelfahrer and Werner Gura at the Wigmore Hall. Celebrating 45 years of listening to Schubert !
photo: Martin Ortner, Marienzell
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