ESS essence of life the last moments of Werth

Lebensessenz & quot;Die Letzten Momente von Werther & quot; 06.07.2013
 
 Once I happened to walk along an amazing street. It was a beautiful summer night. The Windows of the houses reflected only the light of the mistress of the night sky. The sweet smell of Linden was literally felt in the air. The cobblestone sidewalk was lit by the faint glow of street lamps. There was a magical silence, only occasionally broken by the distant splash of water. The city was asleep.
 In these blissful moments, a beautiful melody touched my ear, a waltz that seemed to have been heard before. I stopped, startled by the sight of images, memories, and sensations crashing down on me. It seemed as if my soul was playing this waltz along with the magic keys of the piano. Through an open window at the end of the street, a candle stub drew fanciful shadows. I hurried to look through the window, tormented by curiosity…
 A candle was burning on the Desk, among the papers and music-books in an old candlestick. Next , a huge bookcase that occupied half the room caught my attention. It was only then that I noticed the performer of this magnificent work at the end of the room. A musician sat at a brown piano, head bowed. Her long hair lay on her slightly stooped shoulders. His fingers seemed to draw these sounds on the black-and-white keys of the instrument…
 Feeling someone's eyes on him, the man turned around. In the gloom of the room I could make out a calm, tired face with beautiful, drawn features. Sensing my discomfort, he said, " you must have been attracted to the music. I ask You to come into my house and be my guest. My name is Newton." I apologized for my curiosity and introduced myself and went through the open door…
 He offered me the only chair, sitting down on the banquette in front of the instrument. "I ask You to listen to the touching story of Werther," - he said. I sat down on a chair and prepared for the journey. From the first notes I was struck by the greatness and sensuality of the work. I saw the estate, the charming nature, a young man and a beautiful girl walking under a beautiful moon. Then the mood of the work changes and I am transported to the winter night. It's snowing, and the residents are busy with Christmas chores. And suddenly there is a shot. And I see a dying young man in the arms of a crying girl…
 "Thank you For these unforgettable moments!"I said.
 "Why, I should thank You for your interest in the Eternal, because there are no works without connoisseurs," replied the musician.
 "But the works themselves are not born, they appear thanks to people like You! I exclaimed.
 "We don't make music, it makes us that way. We only reproduce what is stored around us" - this was the answer.
 He began to play and everything became magical again. I could hear the raindrops, the faint glow of the moon, the rustle of autumn leaves, the smell of wildflowers, all at once. At that moment, I admired everything around me. It was as if I had opened up to the world around me and absorbed the enchanting beauty of light, sounds, and smells. He finished playing, and I continued to eagerly catch the sounds still floating in the air.
 "I called this song" Ashes of a shattered dream". So it happens - You reach your dream and go to a new one, leaving the previous one only ashes. But this ash is not carried away by the wind, it remains with you forever. in your heart»…
 Over the years after this meeting, I discovered many other types and forms of inspiration, but the calm, soulful voice of this man and his music remained with me forever. In my heart…