@Nico91 24 November 2022

Sometimes, like this, around midnight, When insomnia urges me to watch over fate, I put wings on my soul and let it soar, Where the candle of love, longing, lights it at night. The stars twinkle lazily. Moon shakes her robe. Sparks of fireflies, light up the whole earth. And following the path that the fireflies illuminate, As if in a story, I make out the voice of the grandmother. The voice leads me to the shed. With guards by the gate, big bat bushes. All around the spree, beginning at the threshold of the gate, Clumps of the queen of the night are wafting my way. I bend down as if in thought and look shyly out the window. In the dim light of the lamp I see her. She is so beautiful! He sits on the bench and spins from a white wool notebook. In the power of the night, the face seems to be a fairy face. I knock on the window. He looks up and stares in amazement. The spindle that escapes in a hurry, has no time to untie. He picks it up and pulls another thread from the white notebook And spinning in the night, circles are drawn in the air. Suddenly, a light pours over the house. Leisurely lighting up the beautiful garden as well. In the light of the pale night, out of nowhere it rains And, until I blink once, everything around me disappears. Was it a dream...? Was it ever...? Or was it just a trick...? It was a dream. And I let him go with the night among the stars. That's the only way I can feel, that from the road among the stars My grandmother's soul is a candle in my night.