There is a tenseness in the air,
that I have seldom felt before,
as if the forest holds its breath
the silence deepens even more.

A distant echo in the night,
across a sky of bygone peace,
before a moon of stains and scars,
above the wars that never cease.

A song of beauty and of hope
it is that stirs the silent night.
From whence it comes, do I not know,
and what does sing, eludes the light

Is it fancied, is it real?
Is this a dream I`ve dreamt before?
If `tis a truth enrobing this,
derived from values, lost of yore.

Then let the beauty of this song
resound forever in my dreams
and leave afloat, my weary soul
upon its tranquil, silent streams.

For it draws faces in the dark,
and it gives color to the pale
If only I could never wake,
so that this dream would never fail.