Commemoration – Funeral Orator – Funeral Service – Zen Master Reding – Penetrate deep to mountain tombs, follow clouds high to air!
Prayer and Meditation
He's in the mood for dice and cards, he's in the mood for the dance and he's in the mood for cold wine. I love nothing but what can be my tribulation comfort and sick doctor in this garden. You green trees, you ornament of flowers, you house of rhymes, you force me to sing this song. The only thing I lack is my playing, the sweet violin, which is worthy of being resounded with power.
Where the leaves and the green branches of the ditch shadow me everywhere, where the area smiles from afar, where splendor is on the side of the meadows makes me happy. What I lack in money and great treasures, Have to replace my soul and its golden rest with free action and happiness, that shuts the house of sorrows in front of me.
I don't want to give it for the world that my life often goes on so happily without money. Supposing that I possessed the world and had nothing in common with good pleasure, when I enjoyed my time in anxiety and fear, what advantage would it be to me?
Commemoration - Funeral Orator
Away with everything that brings displeasure! I should like what laughs and sings and forces Freud. You old trees and you still young plants, protected from the wind all around, where around and around joy and peace entrench themselves, lowers all joy into my lap.
At the same time, you should not fade away from this song of mine, as long as one sees blood on earth. Penetrate deep to mountain tombs, follow clouds high to air; Muse calls out of brook and valley thousand and thousand times. As soon as a fresh calyx blossoms, it calls for new songs; And when time rushes by, seasons come again.