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.