English:

THIS SOUND

So beautiful, this....this...
What can I call this? Do I have a word?
A taste in my mouth? A touch on my fingertips?
Thi....Th t t thisssssssss th th th t t t t th th th th th

this SOUND - even a deaf man can hear it

I can feel it in my rotten guts like the purest bell tone
I can feel it in my poisoned snake like a bolt of lightning
i need this sound -i want it to be mine

i can taste it - so bitter and bright
I want to feel it in my fingers in my fingers just like a guitar
but what ….a guitar? But what a guitar!

This sound

This guitar whose strings come from a burnt and charred earth
this place I know all too well - this place in my heart
an earth brutal and cold after life has gone
...it seeps out, marching like soldiers in retreat in the February snow, limping home, dragging and wounded -
this is a sound I know - a sound that I can sing
a sound that a string will sound a string will sing

I would rather write 10,000 notes than a single letter of the alphabet.

Art! Who comprehends her? With whom can one consult concerning this great goddess?
Beethoven can write music, thank God, but he can do nothing else on earth.

To play a wrong note is insignificant; to play without passion is inexcusable

We mortals with immortal minds are only born for sufferings and joys, and one could almost say that the most excellent receive joy through sufferings.

Mistakes - mistakes - you yourself are a unique mistake!

A number of unfortunate incidents occurring one after the other have really driven me into a state bordering on mental confusion.

Only art and science make us suspect the existence of life to a higher level, and maybe also instill hope thereof.

Music is the electric soil in which the spirit thinks, lives and invents. All that's electrical stimulates the mind to flowing surging musical creation. I am electrical by nature.

This existence I have built up rests on shaky foundations...What a destructive, disorderly life I see and hear around me: nothing but drums, cannons, and human misery in every form."

Oh you men who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn, or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me. You do not know the secret cause which makes me seem that way to you. Oh how harshly was I flung back by the doubly sad experience of my bad hearing.
what a humiliation for me when someone standing next to me heard a flute in the distance and I heard nothing, or someone standing next to me heard a shepherd singing and again I heard nothing. Such incidents drove me almost to despair; a little more of that and I would have ended my life - it was only my art that held me back.

But It seems unthinkable for me to leave the world forever before I had produced all that I felt called upon to produce

What do you say to this dead peace? I no longer expect to see any stability in this age. The only certainty we can rely on is blind chance.

The guitar is a miniature orchestra in itself.
Do you think I give a damn about your and your pathetic violin?

I shall hear in heaven!

My misfortune is doubly painful to me because it will result in my being misunderstood. For me there can be no recreation in the company of others, no intelligent conversation, no exchange of information with peers; only the most pressing needs can make me venture into society.


Deutsch:

Dieser Ton

So schön, das ... das ...
Wie kann ich das nennen? Habe ich ein wort
Ein Geschmack in meinem Mund? Eine Berührung meiner Fingerspitzen?
Thi .... Th t t t t t t t t t t t t t t

Dieses Geräusch - selbst ein Gehörloser kann es hören

Ich kann es in meinen faulen Eingeweiden fühlen wie den reinsten Glockenton
Ich kann es in meiner vergifteten Schlange wie einen Blitz fühlen
Ich brauche diesen Sound - ich möchte, dass er mir gehört

Ich kann es schmecken - so bitter und hell
Ich möchte es in meinen Fingern in meinen Fingern fühlen wie eine Gitarre
aber was ... eine Gitarre? Aber was für eine Gitarre!

Dieser Ton

Diese Gitarre, deren Saiten von einer verbrannten und verkohlten Erde stammen
diesen Ort kenne ich nur zu gut - diesen Ort in meinem Herzen
eine Erde, die brutal und kalt ist, nachdem das Leben vergangen ist
... es sickert aus, marschiert wie Soldaten auf dem Rückzug im Februarschnee, humpelt nach Hause, schleppt und verwundet -
Das ist ein Klang, den ich kenne - ein Klang, den ich singen kann
Ein Klang, den eine Saite erklingt, wird singen