Whitacre: Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Voces8
5:23It is not that I cannot say what happened It is not that words diminish it It is not that I would be misunderstood At the furthest reaches of beauty the senses lose their memory The eye cannot hold the light The music slides away When I try to say what I saw words do not fail: memory fails, vision fails, the senses fail When I try to say what I know, I say things completely other Now a story exists, and it is not what occurred What I saw was not beautiful. It was beauty What I heard was not true. It was truth What I am saying now is less than what I know