On Satur(n)days we used to sleep all motionless
and still ...-While shrouded in an oppressive
gloom we're handed over to the dream. A sleep so
dark, this "Moon by Day", of powers
strange and weird, through mystic veils her silver
rays are glowing carefully. Wov en of dewdrops and
magical light, this gown that we' re wearing here
is but a cloth of mist and we used to call it
"Breath of the Other Sphere"... We are
floating, flying, incredibly fast, the world of
the thought gives birth to this life. Free to
remember, to discover and feel as were closely
together in our parallel flight. While beyond the
gates our bodies lie next to each other in fragile
rest, two chests are lifted up and down, moved
only by some mortal breath. Yes, our bodies are
sleeping so closely together, but it's only in our
minds that we touch (at last). In the realm of the
spirit(s) our souls become one in the happy
knowledge that we are completing halfs. No bodies
and no harriers ...- (all) far more intimate and
strange. Our understanding is clearer,
incomparably real, although there is no sound that
dares to escape ... His eyes are mirrors, gates to
his soul, one true look and I recognize that it's
him, my husband, the one that I love. See me! Read
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me! Step inside !!! No barriers and no masquerade,
come, be received beyond distress! So intensively
and so deep as our fingers unite, our hands
caress. Two wanderers are lovingly dwelling this
land, (as) we fly side by side over mountains and
glens. In the twilight lit of the sillier moon .
..- - set free from the flesh, released from this
tomb! On Satur(n)days we used to sleep, the other
side exploring, alive in our dreams ... Free from
the pain, home where we belong and guarded by the
shadows of the enchanted realm. Below a violet
sky, both dark and profound, the horizon is
glitt'ring, still there is no sound. We fly
through the night crossing frontiers and lakes,
mountains and valleys ... world without end.
"This is where we truly belong, take both my
hands, look into my soul !" I feel the
strength of his embrace as we're closely together
in this secret place ... "Hush, hush, my
Dear, can yon hear the rustling in the
Undergrowth? See through the branches, there in
the glade ...", ghostly creatures as they
dance and sing. Their transparent bodies, half man
and half beast, their voices so sweet like a soft
breath of wind. On Satur(n)days we used to sleep,
and my pain was eased by his love...