Music Masterpiece-woodmam

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It was winter in Vienna, and the wind from the Alps was sharp as a knife.

  That night, Schubert (1797-1828) came home from practicing the piano in the small school. Schubert was very poor, and his family did not have a piano, so he had to go to the small school every day to practice. As he walked along the silent road, he heard only the wind and saw only the streetlights flickering, and the night-covered street looked somewhat miserable. When he passed a thrift store, Schubert suddenly saw a little boy. Schubert knew this little boy, he studied music with himself, and himself, is a poor boy, even poorer than himself. So late at night, the boy did not go home, still standing in the cold street what? Schubert saw at a glance what the boy was holding, it was a book and an old dress. Schubert immediately understood that the boy was to sell these two things, but the station has not been sold so far. Who would buy a too worn clothes and an old book of little use? Childhood Schubert also had such an experience and state of mind. He knew what it was like.

  Schubert looked at the little boy. The little boy was looking up, and his gaze, full of melancholy and helplessness, met his gaze, and he saw that the child's eyes were filled with tears. The silent street, the heavy night and the bleak cold wind engulfed them both.

  Schubert bent down and dug through his coat pockets, pulling out all the money he had. Unfortunately there weren't many gulden. Schubert was a poor musician, his compositions did not sell for much money, so he had to make a living by teaching music. He himself did not even have a coat, so he had to share one with his companions, and whoever went out on business had to wear it. Sometimes he didn't even have money to buy paper, and more than once he said, "If I had money to buy paper, I could compose every day!" He was indeed famously poor.

  Schubert shook his head inexorably, handed those gulden to the little boy, and said to the child, "Sell that book to the teacher!" Saying so, he patted the child on the shoulder.

  The boy looked at the money in his hand, and he knew that the book was not worth that much guilders. He looked at Schubert again, unable to speak for a moment.

  Schubert reassured the boy: "Go home, it's late." The boy turned and ran away, the cold wind lifting his lapels, like a bird flapping its wings of joy. He soon turned back to Schubert and shouted, "Thank you, teacher!" Schubert watched the child run and keep waving back at himself until the child's figure disappeared deep into the foggy side streets. Schubert was also going home, and as he walked, he casually looked through the old book. Suddenly, he came across a poem in the book and was immediately captivated, unable to help but stand under the streetlight and read it carefully.

  The young man saw the red rose.

  The red roses in the wilderness

  How delicate and beautiful.

  He rushed to see them.

  And in his heart he praised

  Rose, rose, rose

  The red rose of the field.

  The young man said I'll pick you back.

  The red rose of the field.

  The rose says I'll sting you

  So that you will never forget.

  I mustn't promise you!

  Roses, roses, red roses in the field.

  Rough boys pluck.

  The red rose of the field.

  The rose stings his hand.

  No use sighing with grief.

  He had to let him destroy them.

  Roses, roses, roses

  The red rose of the field.

  This is Goethe's poem "The Wild Rose". Somehow, the cold wind and the dark night suddenly ceased to exist, and even the world around him ceased to exist, and there was only the wild rose in full bloom before Schubert's eyes. He seemed to smell the rich fragrance of wild roses, and saw the figure of a naughty child ...... a fresh and friendly melody, just from the heavy night, from the pale night sky, from the cold night wind floating, in Schubert's heart like a flower ripple. His heart was filled with fragrance and the day's starlight. Schubert quickened his pace and walked toward home, walking, wrapped up in the excitement of the melody, could not help but run, flew home, immediately picked up a pen and pentameter, and wrote down this wonderful melody.

  This is the song "Wild Rose" that has been sung to this day. That year, Schubert was only 18 years old. Now, the manuscript of this song is worth a lot of money. But at the time, Schubert's manuscript was not worth much. His immortal song, "The Wanderer," sold for only two gulden at the time, and his "Lullaby" for only one potato; while the former made 2,700 gulden to the publisher 40 years after his death, the latter's manuscript was auctioned off for 500,000 francs more than a hundred years later.

  What would it have been like if Schubert's music had sold for such a large sum back then? I often wonder. Schubert lived a life of poverty and illness. As a child, his one great wish was to eat an apple, and he left home at the age of 16 to earn his own living. It was because of poverty that a beautiful girl he loved could not stand it and chose money over art and money, marrying a wealthy businessman, rather like the girl whose eyes are higher than her eyebrows today who is close to the big money, dealing a heavy blow to Schubert and also to the art he admired ...... Schubert once said more than once. "My heart is in perpetual pain, and I shall never, never recover."

  I sometimes imagine for Schubert in this way, what would become of the big money Schubert if all of a sudden Schubert got rich and no longer had to worry about two people wearing a coat or an apple? I think such a problem is not faced by Schubert alone, every artist may face. Life is full of all kinds of temptations, art is a temptation, money is also a temptation, but when I think of this problem, I feel afraid for myself for this vision. Would Schubert, surrounded by the beauty of the lights and the flowers, have had so much time so much passion so many sensitive and kind thoughts and inspiration to capture so many beautiful colorful notes and create so much unparalleled music for us? I would also like to think that the wealthy Schubert met the little boy on the street on a cold winter night and would be so compassionate as to give the little boy all the gulden in his coat pocket? No, Schubert would not have walked alone in the cold streets, at least he would have been accompanied by someone (of course, it was probably a beautiful girl), at least he would have taken a luxurious carriage, he would not have met the little boy in the streets. So, would Schubert have left us such a wonderful Wild Rose?

  The middle part

  One point of confidence, one point of success; ten points of confidence, ten points of success. When you are always asking yourself: Can I succeed? At this point, you can hardly pick the flower of success. When you say to yourself with confidence: I will be able to succeed. At this time, the harvest season of life is not too far from you.

  Self-confidence and inferiority

  People with self-confidence rely on their own strength to achieve their goals, while people with low self-esteem can only rely on a fluke.

  The United States is a paradise for immigrants, but there are countless disillusioned people in paradise, and Henry, who is in his 30s this year, is one of them.

  He lived on unemployment benefits, lying on a park bench with nothing to do all day, watching helplessly as the leaves drifted away and the clouds flew away, lamenting that fate was unfair to them.

  One day, his childhood friend Cheney couldn't wait to tell him, "I saw a magazine, there is an article that Napoleon had an illegitimate son strayed to the United States, and the illegitimate son had several sons, all of their characteristics are similar to you, short, speak a mouth with a French accent of English."

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