A Beauty Whose Image Fills the Mirror of the Heart
Ólafur Arnalds is a multi-instrumentalist and producer from Mosfellsbær, Iceland.Ólafur Arnalds mixes strings and piano with loops and edgy beats crossing-over from ambient/electronic to pop.
“For this record, I wanted to see how far I could push the kind of music I usually make, using the same tools,” shares Arnalds. “I wanted to continue that journey of merging classical music with electronic elements, but at the same time for it to be different from the usual.” ~ Ólafur Arnalds
Arnald’s signature is lush tones and deep emotions. He touches our hearts using wonderful dramatic string-laden movements of ambient electronica with classical piano. His compositions are sweet and deeply moving.
Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.
Description of Love
A true lover is proved such by his pain of heart;
No sickness is there like sickness of heart.
The lover’s ailment is different from all ailments;
Love is the astrolabe of God’s mysteries.
A lover may hanker after this love or that love,
But at the last he is drawn to the KING of love.
However much we describe and explain love,
When we fall in love we are ashamed of our words.
Explanation by the tongue makes most things clear,
But love unexplained is clearer.
When pen hasted to write,
On reaching the subject of love it split in twain.
When the discourse touched on the matter of love,
Pen was broken and paper torn.
In explaining it Reason sticks fast, as an **** in mire;
Naught but Love itself can explain love and lovers!
None but the sun can display the sun,
If you would see it displayed, turn not away from it.
Shadows, indeed, may indicate the sun’s presence,
But only the sun displays the light of life.
Shadows induce slumber, like evening talks,
But when the sun arises the “moon is split asunder.”
In the world there is naught so wondrous as the sun,
But the Sun of the soul sets not and has no yesterday.
Though the material sun is unique and single,
We can conceive similar suns like to it.
But the Sun of the soul, beyond this firmament,
No like thereof is seen in concrete or abstract.
Where is there room in conception for His essence,
So that similitudes of HIM should be conceivable?
I swear, since seeing Your face,
the whole world is fraud and fantasy
The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf
or blossom. The distracted birds
can’t distinguish the birdseed from the snare.
A house of love with no limits,
a presence more beautiful than venus or the moon,
a beauty whose image fills the mirror of the heart.