It was a cold winter night, the wind was howling, ferociously.
I could see the moon, she was full;
often disappearing behind the fleeting clouds,
she seemed staring back at me.

My hands started playing this arpeggio,
while the clouds, rhythmically running across her face,
were dictating the tempo....
Were they following mine ? Could they hear me ?

I put my head down for a moment, closed my eyes,
soon the day will follow the night.