nor earth nor boundless sea
Max Richter Lyrics


We have lyrics for these tracks by Max Richter:


08-Old Song "February the 10th. Sunday. Noise. Peace."…
Arboretum "November the 6th. Like a path in autumn, scarcely has…
Blue Notebooks "Everyone carries a room about inside them. This fact can…
Enola Gay Enola gay, you should have stayed at home yesterday Oho it…
Lullaby i sat the kitchen table and watched the sky grow…
Maria How many people fell in this abyss, I fathom from afar! Ther…
Maria the Poet How many people fell in this abyss, I fathom from afar! Ther…
Old Song "February the 10th. Sunday. Noise. Peace."…
Richter: Old Song "February the 10th. Sunday. Noise. Peace."…
Richter: Shadow Journal "How enduring, how we need durability. The sky before sunris…
Richter: The Blue Notebooks "Everyone carries a room about inside them. This fact can…
Shadow Journal "How enduring, how we need durability. The sky before sunris…
Shadows "How enduring, how we need durability. The sky before sunris…
The Blue Notebooks "Everyone carries a room about inside them. This fact can…
The Departure 15 kisiye saldirdim vurdum vurdum dur ma dim on bes ki si ye…
The Journal "How enduring, how we need durability. The sky before sunris…
The Trees "When Thomas brought the news that the house I was…
Tongue Tied Take me to your best friend's house Roll around this roundab…



Trees "When Thomas brought the news that the house I was…


The lyrics are frequently found in the comments by searching or by filtering for lyric videos
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Most interesting comments from YouTube:

Joshua Fagan

The title comes from a wonderful Shakespeare sonnet about art and love standing strong against the relentless decay of time.
Here it is:
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
But sad mortality o’er-sways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out
Against the wrackful siege of batt’ring days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall time’s best jewel from time’s chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O, none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.



Nachi V

There is nothing home like melancholy!
As much as you envision your life to be,
Bright, vibrant, joyous.
Having once tasted pain at a visceral age,
You wouldn't ever want to do away with it.
The more you try to live in deliberation,
The louder it hums at your ears,
Calling you back home.

It whispers to you,
"Hush, now rest,
Come back to your old play garden,
I've grown more gray flowers for you,
With rainy storms that don't ever stop;
A solitary hum to the tune of your sobs,
And if you ever want to leave, I welcome thee to. "

As much as you hate it at the moment,
You secretly want to feel it again, just once more.
For it doesn't just harm you,
It slashed so deep it's not about the hurt anymore,
You begin to marvel at how red the flower garden is,
For that's the only color there could be,
The gray flowers painted with your blood!
And knowing all the pain, is not for nothing!

But now you're alive, and that's all that matters.

Dated: 13.2.2023



Nachi V

Our truck with life is very similar to the seashore,
The boundless sea waves falling upon the minute sand grains.
Time and again,
Time and again,
Taking not a grain of sand off,
Or rather, giving back as many as she swallowed.
So neither one is defeated in this cosmic duet.

So are we bound to this earth,
Time and again.
Each birth futile, not gaining, nor losing,
Lifetimes of sacrifice and sin.
And as I looked into the repetitive waves,
I assured her that I will be back.
For there lay many lifetimes ahead,
Before I gave as much as I took.
But rise, I shall...



Dave G

We’ve ached and our bones are rotting;
we’ve gone out and gone in. Summer. Winter.
Storm. Sun. Tonight, the pipes are frozen
beneath the home and I think of Grandma's
varicose veins. There are rooms here
where we must still knock, because the dead
are asleep and dying still.
Morning comes as a hope, not a promise.
Yet, I turn on the stove and put the dishes away.
I sweep the kitchen of its dust.
No one is stirring from their bed to come sit with us.
Some tomorrow, I will put my bones next to yours
in the dirt, and they will become splinters of wood.
I will go out into the night and not return.
Someone will prepare the kitchen for me in the morning
& come to my door, knocking.
But the dead will be sleeping still, sleeping.



Nachi V

To really think about it,
All art is merely an imitation.
A mimicry, a second copy of nature.
It doesn't take much solitude to observe,
That all art tends toward nature,
And nature tends toward life!
So, in essence, our art is to make life happen!

When we sing a flower,
We sing of its vibrant colors.
But do we not know?
It adorned it only so it may attract the winged pollinators!
Or of its sweet sugary flesh, only for the beasts of the forest to munch on,
And carry along seeds far across her landscape!

Nature's abundance works to make more of its own,
Beauty wouldn't exist if not for the desire to extend beyond,
When our mortality is painfully beckoning.
Our art follows suit, to make do life,
To find, and breathe joy into the ordinary.
To the human form bearable,
And with time, even blissful!

Dated: 10.5.2023



All comments from YouTube:

Magema

Don't think I will ever get tired of that 4 notes melody. One of Richter's masterpieces.

Luis Felipe Quintero Gómez

This song connects with something deep inside you... something that I locked many years ago and I didn't realize how important is it... My own voice inside, my real thoughts, my past and my freedom. Pay attention, close your eyes and let that this music remember you who you are.

Tom Rich

Excellent

Meltem D.

I lost in my thoughts. I locked myself. And i forgot who am i

Joshua Fagan

The title comes from a wonderful Shakespeare sonnet about art and love standing strong against the relentless decay of time.
Here it is:
Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea
But sad mortality o’er-sways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out
Against the wrackful siege of batt’ring days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack,
Shall time’s best jewel from time’s chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back?
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O, none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

mohammadosman154

So much melancholy in it. Though humans being mortals is nothing we should complain about. But the rest of this poem,I agree that we are a very dim light amidst countless stars. What can be the significance of such a small being in this vast ocean of life.

Avtarás

I know, right! Aimeloun tin zoi mou, Aimelei...

Nachi V

Thank you for posting dear sir

2 More Replies...

Sameoldfitup

“Beyond the edge of the world there’s a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop. And, hovering about, there are signs no one has ever read,
chords no one has ever heard.” Haruki Murakami.

Deep Rolling River

How does he make such soul touching music out of so few notes?

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