Schubert, Müller and the frozen Rideau

There's a cycle of twenty-four songs by Schubert, entitled Winterreise, meaning Winter Journey. The songs are settings of poems by Wilhelm Müller. Since we've been living in Ottawa the imagery in the songs has become very real to us because their lovesick narrator keeps describing a frozen river: its thick surface of ice and the water still rushing along underneath ... corresponding to the cold, hard numbness that conceals his broken heart! Here are three verses from Auf dem Flusse (On the River) which I'm translating rather freely:

Der du so lustig rauschtest,
Du heller, wilder Fluß,
Wie still bist du geworden,
Gibst keinen Scheidegruß.

You who surged so merrily, you bright, wild river, how quiet you have become, without a word of farewell.

Mit harter, starrer Rinde
Hast du dich überdeckt,
Liegst kalt und unbeweglich
Im Sande ausgestreckt.

You have covered yourself with an impenetrable crust, to lie cold and motionless, stretched out in the sand.
[...]

Mein Herz, in diesem Bache
Erkennst du nun dein Bild ?
Ob's unter seiner Rinde
Wohl auch so reißend schwillt ?

Doesn't my heart recognize an image of itself now, in this stream? Under its crust isn't there just such a raging torrent?