Happy 250th birthday to you, Herr Mozart.
Your life was brief, but your impact has been monumental. Do you have any idea how many lives you have touched over the past centuries? You know, I’ve been to your birthplace in Salzburg. I’ve walked in the apartment where you were born. I’ve seen the tiny violin that you played as a boy, and stared in awe at some of your original manuscripts. You might find it amusing to know that there is a Mozart “cafe” underneath your birthplace, and pictures of you are used to sell dozens of items in Austria, including various types of chocolate. People must think that you are delicious.
I confess that I am angered every time I hear your music. My anger is not out of contempt or malice, but out of jealousy. No one should be able to compose such beautiful music in such a seemingly-effortless fashion, but you have that gift. Your gift has only rarely been seen again since your brief life, and never to the extent of your abilities. I can only imagine what you might have accomplished had you lived to be as old as Haydn or Verdi.
Still, you are an inspiration to me, and I have long been fascinated by your life. Wherever you are, I wish you a happy 250th. Thanks for the beautiful music, and for the tasty chocolates.
Vale, meus amicus,