In Time With It - Ba-da-da

Sometimes music is born not from sound, but from an encounter.

An encounter of eras.
Of meanings.
Of things that were never meant to meet.

In this piece, a late-night jazz swing drifts into the philosophy of Omar Khayyam - his quiet irony, his depth, his effortless acceptance of life as it is.

And if, at some point, everything suddenly feels lighter -
then you’ve heard what matters most.


      *   *   *

Come closer, friend… don’t rush away,
There’s wine that shimmers in the glass.
You say: “Let’s write something tonight…”
And suddenly - the moment lasts.

Old Khayyam knew a thing or two,
He searched for truth inside the wine.
And here we are - the band plays low,
Pretending fate is somehow mine.

Khayyam in swing - can you hear the rhyme?
Wisdom dancing in perfect time.
Life’s just dust in a fleeting play,
Ba-da-da… and we drift away.

What will remain of all this noise?
All this drama we call our own?
Just a laugh in the fading night,
And a saxophone’s golden tone.

He drank to silence all the weight,
Of endless thoughts and restless mind.
And we? We talk like we understand,
The secrets no one ever finds.

Of love, of loss, of fragile truth,
With saxophone between the lines.
There will be laughter, there will be fire…
And something aching deep inside.

Let the wise men speak of stars,
Of meaning, fate, and grand design…
We’ll just sing about tonight,
And let the moment realign.

Maybe somewhere in this song,
Between the rhythm and the blue…
There’s something worth a quiet smile,
Something simple… something true.

Khayyam in swing - can you hear the rhyme?
Wisdom dancing in perfect time.
Life’s just dust in a fleeting play,
Ba-da-da… and we drift away.

…somewhere beyond the sound…
a voice replies…

The cup was filled before my breath,
The dawn had burned before my sight.
You speak of choice… but every step
Was written long before this night.

So drink, my friend - not just the wine,
But every second passing through.
Time never waits, it never asks…
It simply ends… and takes you too.

We are but dust upon the edge,
A fleeting trace, a fragile view.
Why argue with what cannot change?
Just laugh… and move in time with it.

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You can listen to the song via the link:

https://disk.yandex.ru/d/VFkUpfpj0EwH2A

Here's a Russian version:

http://stihi.ru/2026/03/26/229