A Really Deep Duduk Solo by Dmitry Soul. Live Performance | Ethnic Flute | Traditional Instruments |

The first blues/jazz.

can somebody tell what is the name of the movie playing in the background, please? I saw it once at a yoga retreat.

Excuse me classical music – this was before your time, and it's poetry in musical form = World class!
Middle East – I'll be back 🙏

So hauntingly beautiful ❤

Duduk is a voice of a history.

The whole Earth understands this ✨✨💖🙏🏽✨✨🌏✨

Beautiful. ❤

Beautiful music that speaks to the soul ❤

The greatest melody's in relaxing and the time before beding🎉🎉🎉❤

The daduk is haunting

Cuando soplas el duduk soplas en el alma de tus oyentes, gran performance. Saludos desde Argentina

If you come to me at this moment,
your minutes will become hours,
your hours will become days,
and your days will become a lifetime.

To the princess of the elephants,
I disappeared exactly one year ago.
On that day I received a letter.
It called me back to the place
where my life with the elephants began.

Please forgive me for the silence between us
has been unbroken for one year.
This letter breaks that silence.
It marks the first of my three hundred and sixty five letters to you;
one for each day of silence.

I will never be more myself than in these letters.
They are my maps of the bird path,
and they are all that I know to be true.

You will remember everything.
All will be as before.
In the beginning of time,
the skies were filled with flying elephants.
Every night they lay down in the same place in the sky
and dreamt with one eye open.
When you gaze up at the stars at night,
you are looking into the unblinking eyes of elephants
who sleep with one eye open…
to best keep watch over us.

Ever since my house burned down,
I see the moon… more clearly.
I gazed upon all the Edens that had fallen in me.
I saw Edens that I had held in my hands, but let go.
I saw promises I did not keep,
pains I did not sooth,
wounds I did not heal,
tears I did not shed.
I saw deaths I did not mourn,
prayers I did not answer,
doors I did not open,
doors I did not close,
lovers I left behind,
and dreams I did not live.
I saw all that was offered to me,
that I could not accept.
I saw the letters I wished for,
but never received.
I saw all that would have been,
but never will be.

An elephant with his trunk raised is a ladder to the stars.
A breaching whale is a ladder from the bottom of the sea.
These images are a ladder to my dreams.
These letters are my ladders to you.

My heart is like an old house,
whose windows have not been opened for years.
But now I hear the windows opening.
I remember the cranes floating above the melting snows,
of the Himalayas, sleeping on tails of manatees.
The songs of the bearded seals.
The bark of the zebra.
The trill of the tree-frogs.
The clicks of the San.
The ears of the caracals.
The sway of the elephants.
The breaching of the whales.
And the silhouette of the eland.
I remember the curl of the meerkats’ toes.
Floating on the Ganges.
Sailing on the Nile.
Ascending the steps of Dharma.
I remember wandering through the corridors of Hatshepsut,
and the faces of many women.
Endless seas and thousands of miles of rivers.
(I remember dancing the waltz and pulling the wishbone.)
I remember fathering two children and the taste of wedding cake.
(I remember my wife, our vows)
The lotus pedals,
(and placing the ring on my finger, full of honey.)
raising her veil, and the pealing of the peach.
I remember everything.
But I do not remember ever having left.
Remember your dreams.
Remember.

The longer I watch the Savannah elephants,
the more I listen, the more I open.
They remind me of who I am.
May the guardian elephants hear my wish to collaborate
with all the musicians of nature’s orchestra.
I want to see through the eye of an elephant.
I want to join the dance that has no steps.
I want to become the dance.
I can’t tell if you’re getting closer or farther away.
I long for the serenity I felt when I looked upon your face.
Perhaps if your face could be returned to me now,
I will find it easier to recover the face I have seem to lost
–
my own.

Feather to fire
Fire to blood
Blood to bone
Bone to marrow
Marrow to ashes
Ashes to snow

The whales do not sing because they have an answer.
They sing because they have a song.
What matters is not what is written on the page.
What matters is what is written in the heart.
So burn the letters and lay their ashes on the snow
at the river’s edge.
When spring comes, and the snow melts, and the river rises,
return to the banks of the river and reread my letters with eyes closed.
Let the words and the images wash over your body like waves.
Reread the letters with your hand cupped over your ear.
Listen to the songs of Eden, page after page after page.
Fly the bird path.
Fly
Fly
Fly…
– Gregory Colbert

Magnifique ! ❤❤❤

The duduk is like the sound more deep of the human soul

Mesmerising

I was searching for Sufi music, and somehow I came across Solo by Dmitry. I like to use in my Documentary that is about a well-known painter, who will be 100 years old this year.

Thank you for your beautiful music!

Prekrasne, ocaravajuce, neviem to inac povedat. Uprimna vdaka!

I don't know of you will see this I love your music and the sound of your duduk playing. What type of duduk is it and who is the maker?

I am pure and perfect Love. ❤

Almost sound like intro "Shine on your crazy diamond" by Pink Floyd

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fz9l4dnVggQ