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...
