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Vivace, ma non troppo.

With life. But not too much life.

I mean I'm definitely alive, there's no mistake
about that and I'm certainly not complaining.
But that doesn't mean that everything is going
perfectly well, either.

Because things rarely do go perfectly. And it
is best perhaps not to have too high expectations
in that regard. For example, even being alive you
could be deaf as a doornail, your friends may have
abandoned you, and it is likely that your cleaning
lady is spying on you.

But in spite of that I feel I have a good measure
of life in me.

Which of course is better than grave e sostenuto.

Beethoven Sonata Op. 109 in E major.
I. Vivace, ma non troppo.

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