Chandogya

Alas, only the quarter-millennium birthday celebration for den Meister could coax me out of the spiritual and physical torpor 2020's travails have inspired. Unfortunately, only the slenderest of bagatelles resulted; but it will surely be lost in the general roar of well wishes directed toward Beethoven's memory, so I will probably receive only minor rebukes for not finishing a seventh symphony to commemorate the event. Nobody wants to spend their whole birthday examining tiresomely massive manuscripts, anyway.

C-Eb-F-Ab-Bb-Db-B-G-A-Gb-E-D.

For the uninitiated, the Chandogya Upanishad (like Shvetashvatara) is one of the noblest and most ancient Hindu scriptures:

The Infinite is the source of joy. There is no joy in the finite.... Where one sees nothing but the One, hears nothing but the One - there is the Infinite. Where one sees another, hears another, knows another - there is the finite. The Infinite is immortal, the finite is mortal.

Herzlichsten Glückwunsch zum Geburtstag, Ludwig!