Who is singing in the shadows,
and stirring Orpheus' string?
Who is swaying the soft wind
to blow a kiss to Hades' sickle?
Who is making the whishes played like horses,
and let them runing in the grasslands of my visions?
And at the night in my mind,
who is cheerfully chatting and laughing
under the laurel trees?
And for all,
who is making all of them-while
I'm staring at your eyes-
shining before my eyes?