I think that a dream almost never returns:
I was painting my hands and my face blue.
Then suddenly I was coming, carried off by the wind,
And I was beginning to fly into the endless sky.
To fly, To sing, In the blue, painted blue,Happy to be up there.
And I flew and flew happily to the heights of the Sun
And higher and higher into the sky.While the world slowly,
Disappeared in the distance down there.Sweet music sounded
For me alone.
But all the dreams vanish at dawn because
When it sets, the Moon takes them along,
But I continue dreaming in your beautiful eyes
That are blue like a sky dotted with stars.
Your voice is sweet music That sounds for me.