Der Leiermann
The Hurdy-Gurdy Man

Winterreise A Journey into Winter


There behind the village, the hurdy-gurdy man,
All his fingers frozen, plays as best he can.
Barefoot on the ice, he is swaying to and fro,
His collecting cup is empty, save for a little snow.

No-one cares to listen or give a second glance,
Only dogs, growling at his feet, advance.
But he takes no notice, lets it pass him by,
Just turns the handle so the music doesn’t die.

Strange old man,
If I chose to come along,
Would you accompany my song?