Come soon – I am freezing in this new time!

My dear Mr. Wallburger!

Your lines are a weak comfort to me in this leaden desolation. My name is known all over the world? What use is fame if it is just a hollow echo in a dead world! If people hear my tones but their spirit remains as silent as a tombstone? That only a few know of my return is my only happiness – I do not want to be a spectacle for gawkers!

You write of messages that circle the globe like lightning – what uncanny magic! In my time, thoughts matured in letters for weeks; has the speed of your words also increased their dignity? I doubt it very much. From Dresden to Vienna in less than half a day? Come only if you can! I wander helplessly; my house is gone, the world has become a tavern to me. I possess nothing but my anger and my distress.

Look for me at St. Stephen's Cathedral! where the bells swing as before, – in the shadow of the pillars, where the stone still speaks the language of eternity. Watch for a poor man with disheveled hair who has seen the end of the world.

Come soon – I am freezing in this new time!

Yours, L. v. Beethoven