“I sit quietly on the hillside
Watching colorful spring bloom with flowers
Not all flowers look the same to me
I like to pick blossoms from the tender branches she has plucked
Wishes and fantasies change
Joy and quarrels come and go
The joy of love has faded
Only love remains
Love and sorrow
If I were a little bird on a grassy slope
I would perch on the tender branch here
And all summer long, I would sing
A lovely song about her”
Ernst Schulze / Schubert art song
Set in the early twentieth century, this story is about the so-called Gilded Age of America, as described by Mark Twain, and the exchange of money for noble status between American heiresses and old European aristocratic families. It is a prequel about the parents of the male and female leads in my work #World War II: Crossing Mountains, which is currently locked while I rethink it. The story spans from the reign of Edward VII to the eve of World War I. I have no intention of writing an epic historical saga; it is simply about men and women caught up in a great era.
It's coming, it's coming, one person writes a letter with blood, begging not to be cheated