The music, those notes of the albatrosses resonating in the air with filigree of jade, serigraphic, clear.
   ''The sky was singing on my lashes, crystal roofs filled the opal wave, your eyes, the mirrors of the clouds' clepsydras, the morning sun that covered your skin, the zephyr that resounded in the aria of the moon. Everything was there, in the line of the horizon that mourned the light of the day, in the solfeggio of the white seconds, the dawn of our entwined steps."