Chapter 141: 232 sections, oh what a red rose

232 sections, oh what a red rose......

232 sections, oh what a red rose……

Liu Guozong

Poor musician Schubert walked on the desolate and bleak street, feeling that the night in Vienna was unusually cold. No wonder, for tomorrow's breakfast, Schubert had not eaten anything from noon until now, not a grain of rice in his stomach, and with his thin clothing, how could he not be cold?

When Schubert passed by an old miscellaneous goods store, he saw a little boy shivering in the cold wind, a little boy even poorer than himself.

It's so late at night, why hasn't the little boy gone home yet?

The musician approached the little boy, who was holding a tattered piece of clothing and an old book in his hands. When Schubert understood the little boy's situation, from noon until now he had wanted to sell that tattered clothing and that old book in his hands, but the whole day passed without anyone even asking the price.

The little boy dared not go home.

The little boy's difficult situation moved the musician to tears of sympathy.

The musician had experienced the same hardship in his childhood, knowing the taste of hunger and cold.

The musician pinched the coin he had prepared for tomorrow's breakfast in his pocket, then took it out and gave it to the little boy, saying: "Child, please sell me the book in your hand, and hurry home."

The little boy received the coin Schubert gave him, feeling so moved he didn't know what to say. Because the book in his hand was nowhere near worth that much money, this money was clearly a gift from Teacher Schubert.

"Thank you, Teacher!" the little boy waved at Schubert, then disappeared into the cold night.

Schubert watched the little boy's fading figure, walked under the streetlamp, and opened the book he had just bought from the little boy's hands.

Schubert was deeply attracted by a poem written by Goethe in the book.

He could not help but begin to recite――

The youth saw the red rose, the red rose on the prairie.

How delicate and beautiful, he hurried over to look.

He secretly admired in his heart: rose, rose, the red rose on the prairie.

The youth said, "I will pick you and take you back, red rose on the prairie."

The rose said, "I will prick you, so you will never forget."

I will never promise you, rose, rose, red rose on the prairie.

The rose pricked his hand; sorrowful sighs were of no use.

He could only let it be destroyed, rose, rose, red rose on the prairie.

The musician recited, unknowingly infected by the poetic mood, intoxicated by the rose's fragrance. He forgot hunger, cold, poverty, and everything in the world around him, and involuntarily began to hum.

With the musician's humming, a fresh, natural, beautiful and pleasing melody on the staff was thus born.

It is the song sung worldwide, the enduring 《Red Rose》.

We say, great works are always born from noble and kind hearts.

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