X and Moments
Enslavement of Beauty Lyrics


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A precious, mouldering pleasure 'tis
To meet an antique book,
In just the dress his century wore;
A privilege, I think,
His (venerable) hand to take,
And warming in our own,
A passage back, or two, to make
To times when he was young.
His quaint opinions to inspect,
His knowledge to unfold
On what concerns our mutual mind,
The literature of old;
What interested scholars most,
What competitions ran
When Plato was a certainty,
And Sophocles a man;
When Sappho was a living girl,
And Beatrice wore
The gown that Dante deified.
Facts, centuries before,
He traverses familiar,
As one should come to town
And tell you all your dreams were true:
He lived where dreams were born.
His presence is enchantment,
You beg him not to go;
Old volumes shake their vellum heads
And tantalize, just so.
And there's grief of hunger, and grief of cold
And there's a sort they call despair




There's banishment from primitive lust
In the slightest sight of fundamental air

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Enslavement of Beauty's song "X and Moments" depict the beauty of encountering an antique book that offers a window into another time. The singer describes the pleasure of holding such a book in their hand, feeling a connection to the past and the knowledge it offers. They speak of the opportunity to inspect the opinions of those who came before, explore their knowledge of literature, and learn about what interested scholars in past centuries. The singer describes the feeling of being transported back in time, to an era when famous philosophers like Plato and Sophocles were still living, and poets like Sappho and Dante were roaming the earth. The singer marvels at the fact that the book's author once lived in a time when the dreams of the future were just beginning to take shape.


The latter half of the song takes a different direction, exploring the concept of grief and despair in various forms. The singer speaks of the grief of hunger, poverty, and banishment from primitive desires, all of which are vaguely linked by the notion of lacking something essential. The song's thematic link between the beauty of antique literature and the weight of human suffering remains unclear, but the mood of contemplation and introspection remains present throughout the piece.


Line by Line Meaning

A precious, mouldering pleasure 'tis
It is a valuable, decaying experience


To meet an antique book,
Encountering an old book


In just the dress his century wore;
In its original form


A privilege, I think,
A great honor


His (venerable) hand to take,
To hold hands with the author


And warming in our own,
To empathize with their thoughts


A passage back, or two, to make
To time-travel through their words


To times when he was young.
To revisit their youth


His quaint opinions to inspect,
To analyze their unique views


His knowledge to unfold
To unravel their wisdom


On what concerns our mutual mind,
On topics that interest us both


The literature of old;
The classic works of the past


What interested scholars most,
What fascinated the intellectuals


What competitions ran
What contests took place


When Plato was a certainty,
When Plato's ideas were accepted


And Sophocles a man;
And Sophocles was still alive


When Sappho was a living girl,
When Sappho was among the living


And Beatrice wore
And Beatrice donned


The gown that Dante deified.
The dress that Dante praised highly


Facts, centuries before,
Historical events from ages ago


He traverses familiar,
He explores with ease


As one should come to town
As one would survey a city


And tell you all your dreams were true:
And confirm your wildest aspirations


He lived where dreams were born.
He inhabited a realm of imagination


His presence is enchantment,
He exudes enchantment


You beg him not to go;
You implore him to stay


Old volumes shake their vellum heads
Ancient writings seem to come alive


And tantalize, just so.
And tease, exactly in that way


And there's grief of hunger, and grief of cold
There is the sorrow of physical needs


And there's a sort they call despair
And there is a type of gloom known as despair


There's banishment from primitive lust
There is a renunciation of carnal desires


In the slightest sight of fundamental air.
In the smallest glimpse of essential air.




Contributed by Oliver W. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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Comments from YouTube:

nMAsee

The last album, but not new, it's from 2007

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