MirachRavaia

Wind is blowing in the cypresses Sky is clear as far as the eye sees Wind is blowing Sea is flowing And the olive grooves are growing In the warm and sweetly smelling breeze Gulls are crying at ships coming home Shores are dressed in white lace of sea-foam Gulls are crying Nets are drying And the fishermen are trying To sell their catch where the people roam Stars are gleaming in the evening sky In the warm air moths flutter and fly Stars are gleaming Children dreaming In the taverns wine is streaming Served with honey cake and goat cheese pie Lutes are singing in the fragrant air Artists, poets, actors are all there Lutes are singing Dancers swinging And the citar strings are ringing As theatres lure you in with flair

Set the sail, let the raven fly Threads of fate unfolding under midnight wing Raise your sword in a last goodbye Let the gods watch and the honey-tongued bard sing Take the oar, breathe the salty air Let the stars guide your way into unknown seas Feel the wind playing with your hair One last time breathe in the scent of the pine trees Leave the shores of your home behind The untamed forests and fjord's cruel beauty Seek new lands with riches to find Or let the Valkyries fulfill their duty Set the sail in this dawnless night To seek for death or for riches and glory As the sky fills with dancing light All of us shall become part of a story

Let me tell you of a city in the desert's scorching heat Where women have eyes of fire and heroes love them and bleed Let me tell you of the fountains that mirror the stars at night, Of the daggers in the darkness and the laughter in the light Let me tell you of a city where the fairy-tales come true, In the endless sea of sand from which it like a mirage grew Let me tell you of the whispers of the wind behind the walls As a sandstorm is approaching and a lonely jackal howls Let me tell you of the music as a heartbeat of the street Let me tell you of the dancers with little bells on their feet Of the smells of thousand spices lingering in the bazaar, Of the palaces and beggars and caravans from afar Let me tell you of a city, maybe real maybe not Maybe it is just a mirage when the sun is burning hot Maybe it’s truth that I'm telling and it may be all a lie You may find city of wonders or you may get lost and die