Kindertotenlieder

The poet Frederick Rückert wrote the 428-poem collection Kindertotenlieder (Songs on the Death of Children) in 1833-34, after the death of two of his daughters from scarlet fever. They became world-famous nearly a century later when Gustav Mahler set five of them to music. One of the themes running through Rückert's cycle is the fantasy that the children are still alive, as seen in this poem, one of the five selected by Mahler.

Oft denk' ich, sie sind nur ausgegangen

Oft denk' ich, sie sind nur ausgegangen,
Bald werden sie wieder nach Hause gelangen,
Der Tag ist schön, o sei nicht bang,
Sie machen nur einen weiten Gang.

Ja wohl, sie sind nur ausgegangen,
Und werden jetzt nach Haus gelangen,
O, sei nicht bang, der Tag is schön,
Sie machen den Gang zu jenen Höh'n.

Sie sind uns nur voraus gegangen,
Und werden nicht nach Haus verlangen,
Wir holen sie ein auf jenen Höh'n
Im Sonnenschein, der Tag is schön.

I often think: they have only just gone out,
and now they will be coming back home.
The day is fine, don't be dismayed,
They have just gone for a long walk.

Yes indeed, they have just gone out,
and now they are making their way home.
Don't be dismayed, the day is fine,
they have simply made a journey to yonder heights.

They have just gone out ahead of us,
and will not be thinking of coming home.
We go to meet them on yonder heights
In the sunlight, The day is fine.

Four years after his completion of the Kindertotenlieder cycle, Mahler's own daughter Maria died, at the age of four, of scarlet fever and diphtheria. He later told a friend, "I placed myself in the situation that a child of mine had died. When I really lost my daughter, I could not have written these songs any more."

Here's Jessye Norman singing the piece:

SSC

Sometimes -- no not even sometimes, OFTEN! -- my own posts make me LOL.

That might help you understand why I posted it in the first place.

I know that question comes up.

How it began

Image via WikipediaI posted this post to my old blog, regarding a song by Joni Mitchell and the thoughts it inspired in me about growing older. Rather than bring it over, I'll just link to it, as it contains some relevant links.

This is basically why I'm here.

I'm a middle-aged man, though considering the state of my physique, I'm probably more towards the end than the middle. So be it.

But I have young children, 12 and 16, which means that in dog years I really ought to be like Tony Soprano at the start of the series. He was I think 38, when Meadow and Anthony Jr. were about the ages of my kids.

So I ask yez, when you look at the life expectancy of a Mafia boss, and it seems better than yours, where does that leave you?

My thoughts are therefore somewhat bogged down in mortality. All the more because I lost a son.

I married first at 19, spare me your retrospective advice. Daniel was born on September 11, and in this post I explain how that wasn't a problem for long.

He died, terribly.

That's all I will ever say about it, but it informs everything I say. In the same way that a person with kids can never really get across to a person without kids what it's all about, so it is with loss. Those who know, know. Those who don't know, may it please your god that you never find out.

So that's me. There'll be stuff that appears not to match this profile. That's me, too.

Here's Joni singing the song that gave this blog its name:

Nothing lasts for long

The Sour Grapes are behind us now, it's time to break the ties. That was a job, and I don't have that job any more.

This is real life. I'll post here about real life, and literature, which is to real life what a map is to a road.

If you like stuff, share it on the Book, bring some people in. I don't need an audience, but it helps.

Thanks to all those who have been with me all this time. Thanks for following on. If I don't make it worth your while, at least I won't make it too onerous on yez.