"And will he not? come again? And will he not come again? No, no. he is dead; Go to thy deathbed; He never will come again His beard was as white as snow All flaxen was his poll, He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan (hamlet: 4° act. scene vii) No stars or dreams No stars! The sky's cruel torch burned them Speaking that she ran madly To the lake to the end Flower crowned. may afternoon Like mermaid she floated A silver willow watched her While she sang her arias, Submerging with her pain and tears No more love or hope of... No stars Or dreams? No stars The sky's cruel torch burned them Leave me like a child. bring me the sun Into your soft hands Only for this night, after we fall Into oblivion Bring me the sun into your soft hands,. Bring me the sun now... Bring me the sun into your hands, Bring me the sun into your mouth Bring me the sun into your hands, Bring me the sun between our tongues