I stood in the middle of a dream In the middle of a country Between day and night Between darkness and glare Between ice and glow Between me and myself
I opened my eyes... And cold was singing from high trees Sand and stones slept silently... And the lake was a divine mirror.
Just a crescent of moon shone in dark – cut through the sky like a razor blade, like a sabre The lake rang with a strong voice And an old chant was sung And another and another... One was knitted into the second and the third sounded with the fifth and the seventh was weaker The forth wept and the sixth knew my name...
I was lying under the starry dome listening to a tale I will never forget the magical moment...