The swan that flew away and the song that came back to us. The whispers near the lake are the voices of the Etruscan Gods who slept more than two thousand years. Maybe the beat of white wings woke them up, a glass window broke, a glass broke the water, a looking glass. We woke up in another world, on a black beach. We gather the golden rays of a golden moon. The song of a nightingale mirrors you, Gives everything back to us and more.