Night cloaks the earth in a velvet mantle, and the pale Moon becomes her eternal beloved in this quiet, poetic dialogue. They meet in the darkness of the heavens—where sounds fade and the day departs—and amidst silent, slumbering wonders, a light, silvery shadow falls. Night whispers softly: "I have waited for you, my pearl, my white light..." The Moon wove a bed of silver for her and sent back a silent reply. Together they hover above the sleeping earth—one dark, the other so radiant—and in this silence, theirs alone, the starry spring stretches out endlessly. The Moon kisses the velvet of black wings, Night embraces the Moon’s luminous face, and for a moment, the earthly world stands still, held in the embrace of this magical silence . . .
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