For Franz Schubert (1797 - 1828) Poem by DM W
For Franz Schubert (1797 - 1828)
To be born for beauty
Only to reflect sadness;
To be born of genius
But live like a pauper:
O it all seems so cruel.
It all seems so tragic.
There are so few of us
Who can embrace this life;
With all its turbulent storms;
In all its flashing madness.
Alas dear Franz Schubert,
One of the most sublime,
Yet frailest of all souls,
Was not of those rare breeds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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2/22/2026 2:02:22 PM # 1.0.0
A heart-warming reflexion about the tragedy of Schubert's early death. I wonder which masterpieces Schubert would have composed if he would have lived longer. Great poem!