In stiller Nacht zur ersten Wacht

 

When we sang this German song my heart melted

within me, the sadness in the rising notes, but more

than that, the infinite sorrow in the sonorous words

a lonely voice lamenting its sorrow and the listener:

 

Me, I was listening, a sweet voice grieving - I was

weeping with it, all the sadness in the world, all my

chagrin welling up at the same time, strangling the

singer and my throat constricted and my diaphragm

 

Weakened by the perpetual tension of unending pain

an eternity grieving for lost love and living in isolation,

I could not sing with the others, I was crying inside…

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I was not an asset to that august choir, being asocial

I was reading “Untergang des Abendlandes” for the

philosophy course and not interested in their juvenile

discussions of the problem with suicide, we had already

 

Discussed it at school and I was there for the music,

not to be entertained with pseudo-psychological babble,

I did not make a single friend among the weird students

who joined the choir, all convinced they were better than

 

The barbarians who couldn’t sing, why that should confer

superiority on them was unclear to me - I loved the music,

the emotional experience of perfect notes and melodies,

not to observe the interaction between megalomaniacs

 

In stiller Nacht, zur ersten Wacht,

ein Stimm' begunnt zu klagen,

der nächt'ge Wind hat süß und lind

zu mir den Klang getragen.

Von herbem Leid und Traurigkeit

ist mir das Herz zerflossen,

die Blümelein, mit Tränen rein

hab' ich sie all' begossen.