There are no words to describe the delicate fragrance of the linden trees, and all the ideas in the world could never replace just ONE linden tree. And American linden trees are not as fragrant as European ones...
Two composers who have loved the linden tree : Mahler, and Schubert, of course.
I would like to write out the poem taken from Winterreise in German, but that would be a little fastidious for you.
Here it is in an English translation. And if you ever manage to get your hands on Wolfgang Holzmair's performance of Winterreise, it is worth much more than filthy lucre, or even GOLD.
By the well outside the gate
Stands a lime (linden) tree ;
in its shade I dreamt so many sweet dreams.
In its bark I carved so many tender words ;
In joy and sorrow I was constantly drawn to it.
Tonight once more I had to walk past in pitch blackness,
then in the dark I again shut my eyes.
And its branches rustled as if calling to me :
Come here to me, young fellow, here you will find your rest !
The cold winds blew straight in my face ;
my hat flew off my head.
I did not turn.
Now I am several hours away from that place,
and still I hear it rustling :
You would find rest there ! (Wilhelm Müller)
Yes, dear Franz was a rootless modern too...