The moon has crept behind the dusty beam, In theater of shadows starts the dream. On white faces, silver traces glow, Waiting for the sun to lose its hold. Makeup freezes like a drop of dew. The stage is empty, but the voices ring, We hear the ancient clocks, their rhythmic swing. The beams are creaking like an old organ, The lunar mist — our silent captain. We don't just play, we truly live. O-o-o, in the wild brilliance... O-o-o, under lunar radiance... The theater's awake, it sees our sleep, In tune with the night, secrets we keep. [Intimate voice with Solo Flute] Tomorrow again the lights will flare, And they will spin in the ballroom air. But in this hour, while the world is still, The moon reveals our secret chill. A silk path into the void. Velvet curtains swallow every stride, In empty boxes, there is nowhere to hide. Only the stars in their cold design Watch our repetition, line by line. Eternity is frozen in a loop. Masks are off, but roles remain, The ghostly hour breaks the chain. Soon the dawn will dissolve this hall, So no one learns our secret at all. The stars are placed in their case.
