Here Beneath the Bough (Omar Khayyam) by Stellan (lyrics in description) скачать в хорошем качестве

Here Beneath the Bough (Omar Khayyam) by Stellan (lyrics in description)

Here Beneath the Bough - Stellan AI - 2025 A song about Omar Khayyam, a Persian poet and polymath, known for his contributions to mathematics, astronomy, philosophy, and Persian literature. A lover of women and good wine. Lyrics: From Nishapur, a scholar's hand, Drew stars across the desert sand. He mapped the sky, a universe in code, But found a deeper truth on life's wild road. He saw the Mullahs and their hollow plea, Promising Heavens, but with no guarantee. So he turned away from their ascetic plight, To a different kind of revelry and light. The future's like a fleeting, fragile glass, A moment born, and then it's gone to pass. No saintly promise, no eternal hymn, Can fill the chalice to its very brim. A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou, Beside me in the wilderness right now. Forget the prophets and their endless lies, The only truth is in your laughing eyes. For life is brief, a season, and a rhyme, So fill the cup, and drink the sweet red time! Let wine and women be our holy creed, The only faith that plants a fruitful seed. They call it sin, a shadow on the soul, To hold a goblet and lose all control. But what is sin? A word the pious preach, That cannot reach beyond our mortal reach. He saw the beauty in a woman's gaze, A thousand suns in her bewildered haze. He knew the nectar from a lover's kiss, Was worth a thousand years of prayerful bliss. The past is just a whisper in the wind, A chapter closed, a letter left unpenned. No earthly glory, no forgotten fame, Can light again that long-extinguished flame. A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou, Beside me in the wilderness right now. Forget the prophets and their endless lies, The only truth is in your laughing eyes. For life is brief, a season, and a rhyme, So fill the cup, and drink the sweet red time! Let wine and women be our holy creed, The only faith that plants a fruitful seed. The turning wheel, the potter's dusty hand, Molds fragile vessels from the shifting sand. And from this clay, we rise and we will fall, He saw the end written for one and all. So why postpone the joy we have today? Why save the kiss for some far-off, distant way? He found his heaven here, beneath the bough, With just a flask and you, my love, right now. A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou, Beside me in the wilderness right now. Forget the prophets and their endless lies, The only truth is in your laughing eyes. For life is brief, a season, and a rhyme, So fill the cup, and drink the sweet red time! Let wine and women be our holy creed, The only faith that plants a fruitful seed. The final call, the setting sun... And all we have is what's begun... The wine, the woman, and the rhyme... We drink it all, we beat the time...