My brain tried to compose an aria in German in my sleep last night. The title was something including “Augen” and the first line was something along the lines of “The sun, with morning bloom, is rising” (translated). In the non-existent opera in my mind, the singer knows they are facing their last day on earth and is encouraging the companion, to whom they are singing, to see all the beauty in the world and life- specifically within the city they are in- as they are appreciating it today, rather than to be filled with grief.
Brains are weird.