7:00 hours in a morning of blue lights and long red shadows;
are also the hours of silent magic without words just a song.
There is a thick forest of columns and in the memory: a roof of waters,
no secret corners; almost harmonious at every glance, in every planet.
On either side of her, stories drawn from ancient times come;
so old legends that no one remembers, even though everyone knows.
It is the "maker of mysteries", a snowy face and kisses of sugar cotton;
is here and there, sitting at herself, dreaming of a new and happy world.
It is time for the Gods' breakfast
here in the darker magic forest.