THE REAL GROUP- En vanlig grönskas rika dräkt (Sommarpsalm)

A summer hymn fills my heart with emotion. Where does the emotion come from? Why the stream of grateful tears? 

(Is it worthy to try to figure out? ... At the beginning, one hardly knows how the adventure is gonna end, does he?) 

First thing: It is NOT a Christmas song, eventhough it may sound like one to some ears. I usually hate Christmas songs. Privately. This is different. 

This one is a swedish hymn in praise of summer. Can we southern people conceive a long and harsh winter, mostly deprived of warm days? Can we imagine the joy of sunlight, when it finally arrives? (Here comes the sun... British can, but we don't, really).

But there is more... The singing... The performance, The Real Group, I hope they have the privilege of many happy summers singing together...! Underbar!

Now listen, if you will, and feel the perfect balance, the pendulum, the gravity in the music. How perfect is the simultaneous breath that gives energy to the music... And how that energy dies like the seasons themselves, giving way to a new breath in a complete cycle of death and rebirth. Fully commited music expression, from within... what a beautiful human enterprise... These guys are more than talented. They hold the key.

Now listen to the wonderful swedish words. Even if you don't get a clue, listen. They are still beautiful, and paint with delightful sounds the green meadows, the forests, the wafting breeze, the trees and flowers, the unaffected stillness and reverent awe of the eyes that catch all that beauty. 

Listen finally the way how the singing reverberates in everything, how the harmony goes as close to perfection as it is humanly possible... how words and pitches and breath find their delightful balance and blend to convey the quiet and awed celebration of summer.

Rejoycing in the simplicity of the smallest things.

(Thank you for today, thank you for a wonderful, ordinary day)

En vänlig grönskas rika dräkt
har smyckat dal och ängar.
Nu smeker vindens ljumma fläkt
de fagra örtesängar.
Och solens ljus och lundens sus
och vågens sorl bland viden
förkunna sommatiden.
Sin lycka och sin sommarro
de yra fåglar prisa.
Ur skogens snår, ur stilla bo
framklingar deras visa.
En hymn går opp med fröjd och opp
från deras glada kväden,
från blommorna och träden.

Men Du, o gud, som gör vår jord
så skön i sommarns stunder.
Giv, att jag aktar främst ditt ord
och dina nådesunder.
Allt kött är hö, och blomstren dö
och tiden allt fördriver,
blott Herrens ord förbliver.

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