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A Backward Glance

Winterreise A Journey into Winter

Müller

My feet are burning despite the snow
But I ignore my plight,
I will not stop to catch my breath
Till the towers are out of sight.

I’ve stumbled over many a stone
In my desperate rush to leave.
The crows threw hail and icicles
From high on every eave.

How different was my welcome
In this inconstant town
When songbirds at the windows
Vied who would win the crown.

The linden trees were blooming,
The streams laughing with joy!
A girl’s two eyes were gleaming –
Ah, that was for you, my boy!

Whenever that day comes to mind,
I yearn to look back once more,
To return, somehow, and find
I’m there, quietly at her door.