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 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...