Beethoven is in his room deep in thought…he wears a saturnine mien. His brow riddled in agony but those hazel eyes still bear pure child-likeness.
O this anguish of soul though fleeting
Seems to me to last eternity.
Amidst gloomy and brooding thoughts wafting
Over my head, the Muses’ lofty
Cadences still weave their lucent magic.
Restored by the limpidity that now
Engulf me, a new opening has indeed
Been carved in my inmost being-
An oculus through which purest distillation
Of musical ideas emerge full-fledged
And forever uniting with Nature’s transcendent laws…