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by Franz Schubert From The Fair Maid of the Mill (1823) D795 (Op. 25)

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English source: Jeremy Sams

A miller loves to sit and dream of somewhere
That’s what I do, I sit and dream of somewhere
And where it is, it’s hard to say,
Not near at hand, nor far away
But somewhere, yes somewhere
But somewhere, yes somewhere

The rushing waters show the way to somewhere
Careering headlong, night and day to somewhere
And so I watch the millstream race
To some as yet uncharted place
To somewhere, to somewhere
To somewhere, to somewhere

The millwheels long to join the game, the millwheels
They plainly seem to feel the same, the millwheels
For like my mind they churn and churn
The more they turn, the more I yearn
For somewhere, for somewhere
For somewhere, for somewhere

The millstones show the other way, the millstones
It’s ‘here I sit - and here I’ll stay!’ for millstones
But the settled life is not for me
How could I bear to never see
My somewhere, my somewhere
My somewhere, my somewhere?

So time to wander, time to pack, for somewhere
To set my course (and not look back) for somewhere
By the time my Master knows I’m gone
There’s a journey I’ll have started on.
To somewhere, to somewhere
To somewhere, to somewhere


Franz Schubert

Franz Peter Schubert was an late Classical and early Romantic composer. He produced a vast oeuvre during his short life, composing more the 600 vocal works (largely Lieder), and well as several symphonies, operas, and a large body of piano music. He…

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