prologue: wearied by our endless travelling under a burning sun, we stopped by the margins of a tiny stream, embraced by a timid vegetation. the scorching heat made our throat parched and weak: yearning to quench our thirst, we immersed ourselves into the waters without any hesitation, drowning our dryness and our exhausted limbs.
i pointed my face, revived by water, towards the sky and i lingered on, admiring it: a flock of birds gently floated, drawing in the sky some abstract shapes. i sat beneath a palm tree, motionlessly admiring the show, the shades of the night approaching.
“the true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.” -- pressing on white and clear 180 gram double vinyl.