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Este artista judeu escreveu a canção perfeita de quarta-feira de cinzas

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A letra chama a atenção para os Salmos e o rito católico

Eu vou admitir: estive procurando uma desculpa para postar uma música do homem que é provavelmente o meu artista favorito: Matisyahu (Mateus em hebraico). Desde que meu irmão me apresentou o Live at Stubb, em 2005, eu fiquei vidrada.

Quando eu estava pensando sobre uma música para apresentar na quarta-feira de cinzas, eu sabia que o momento tinha finalmente chegado. Obviamente, muitos de nossos talentosos artistas católicos contemporâneos tocaram temas relevantes para esta data, mas foi um judeu de Nova York que realmente se destacou desta vez.

Toda Quarta-Feira de Cinzas, quando eu vou receber minhas cinzas – além de meditar sobre o pecado, a penitência e voltar-me para o Senhor – tenho esta música de Matisyahu em minha mente.

É um dia para refletir sobre a nossa morte. As cinzas são “um sinal exterior de tudo o que nos tornaremos, sendo reis ou corvos: cinzas”.

Aqui está uma grande versão de “On Nature” de Matisyahu, cantada com o PS22 Staten Island Chorus:

Para acompanhar as novidades sobre seus artistas favoritos e encontrar música nova todos os dias, siga Cecilia no Facebook.

Libby Reichert
LYRICS

On Nature

Matisyahu

There is a place in the bottom of the soul,

It’s no bread of restitution

Hearts splash fly like dough

Where there is no pollution

 

You would know words to hold

Folks question your solutions

Bedrock of a river that flowed

No times, present or future

 

We are men of nature

We are made from the earth

At the end of my eighty, I’ll return to the dirt

Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent

Only bein’ only breathin’

We’re just children of believers

 

Type, fire and water be strong with compassion

In the morning we’re born everlasting

Like the grass by the sea

And in with the wind which knocks ya down time and again

We remain and sing

Stand until the dawn of day carries us away

As we sway through the phases of each generation

We leave our trace and then leave this station

 

Fierce fronts, fantasy phased

No blame, untamed or spoken

Shiggy walks through this space

On dry land that’s cracked and broken

 

We came to taste the rain

We’re just, widows and orphans

Not afraid to feel the pain

Or to leave behind our notions

 

Bathe in showers, taste the tension,

Hear the howl, climb the mountain,

Kiss the cold and heal the frozen

Read the dreams in this here dungeon

 

We are men of nature

We are made from the earth

At the end of my eighty, I’ll return to the dirt

Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent

Only bein’ only breathin’

We’re just children of believers

 

There is fire in these leaves and therefore naturally,

I’m not afraid to face these seasons

‘Cuz, times change and there’s no one to blame

Even when the day is leavin’

Will you rise like a lion in the morning sun

Or will ya, just lay there bleedin’

When the time has come, return to the kingdom

Close my eyes and be screamin “freedom”

 

Freedom, freedom

Freedom, freedom

Freedom, freedom

 

We are men of nature

We are made from [freedom] the earth

At the end of my eighty, I’ll return to the dirt

Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent

Only bein’ only breathin’

We’re just children of believers

 

We are men of nature

We are made from the earth

At the end of my eighty, I’ll return to the dirt

Just sand, just rock, dry land, fast and silent

Only bein’ only breathin’

We’re just children of believers
Children of believers

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