I can see it with half an eye that

Grand music does not penetrate

The ears of the country bumpkins;

However, if they hear Beethoven's

Of Tchaikovsky or Bach's Cantata,

Would they roar then with laughter?

Is it true that lofty words do not remain

In the minds of the multitude, and that

Perfection of phrases is not heard

Because the vulgar words predominate?

By earthenware instruments like pots

The music of a bell will be confused,

And the pleasure that it would afford

Cannot be obtained by the subtle ears.

Now the whole world is under delusion,

And though I wish to go in a right way,

How can I succeed in doing so?

Knowing that I cannot do so, however,

If I were to try to force my way, would that be

Another delusion on top of that?

And no more pursue it. If I do not pursue it,

Whom shall I have to share in my bitter remorse?