Turned to Ice

Winterreise A Journey into Winter


In vain I look in the snow
For some trace left by her feet
As on my arm she crossed
The meadow in the heat.

I want to kiss the ground,
To pierce the ice and snow,
With my hot tears
To reach the earth below.

But where is there a flower
And where grass that is green?
The flowers have all wilted,
The grass is pale and mean.

So is there then no souvenir
I can take from this place?
For when my feelings have grown dull,
To remind me of her face?

It seems to me my heart has died
The frozen image of her heart inside.
But if my heart should ever thaw,
Her image would melt and be no more.