Project: A new era

04 MINIMÀLIA

Minimàlia, the essentials of a life that's true.
Little things from day to day, flowers springing up anew.
Leap, little frog, leap.
Leap, little frog, leap.
On the water lily blooming, leaf to leaf, the frog will leap.
Fly, little fly, fly.
Fly, little fly, fly.
Through the window standing open, to the sill, the fly will fly.
Run, little horse, run.
Run, little horse, run.
Over green fields runs the horse; the fly flies, the frog still leaps.
Minimàlia, the essentials of a life that's true.
Little things from day to day, flowers springing up anew.
Shine, little star, shine.
Shine, little star, shine.
In the black and boundless universe, a single star still shines.
Fall, little raindrop, fall.
Fall, little raindrop, fall.
Through the breathless air its echo widens; one small raindrop falls.
Tremble, earth, now tremble.
Tremble, earth, now tremble.
A battle tank advances; the raindrop falls, the star still shines,
The horse still runs, the fly still flies, the frog still leaps,
The earth now trembles.
Minimàlia, the essentials of a life that's true.
Little things from day to day, flowers springing up anew.
Sing, woman, sing.
Sing, woman, sing.
As she makes her way back home with all her shopping, the woman sings.
Dream, little schoolboy, dream.
Dream, little schoolboy, dream.
Staring at the blackboard without seeing it, the schoolboy dreams.
Cry, little child, cry.
Cry, little child, cry.
Listen, a rifle fires; the child cries, the schoolboy dreams,
The woman sings, the earth still trembles, the raindrop falls,
The star still shines, the horse still runs, the fly still flies,
The frog still leaps.
Minimàlia, the essentials of a life that's true.
Little things from day to day, flowers springing up anew.
Minimàlia, the essentials of a life that's true.
Little things from day to day, flowers springing up anew.

Following the vertigo of Immensity, Minimàlia brings the gaze back down to earth.

Not to diminish it, but to discover that infinity does not dwell in deep space alone. It also exists in things that barely ask to be noticed, in gestures that occur without clamour, in the living, fragile substance of every day.

Minimàlia is a small terrestrial cosmology.

A song built upon apparent simplicity, in which the innocence of its form gradually allows something darker to emerge. For the world never truly separates grace from menace.

Everything coexists. The minute and the tragic. The everyday and History. Life insisting, and whatever seeks to break it.

And perhaps this is what is essential: to go on feeling the world even while the world trembles.