Nocturne Op.3 No.1

When three orange-violet stars glide over the water’s gleaming skin,

The orchid with a pale blue color, trembling,

Finally summoned up the courage to unfold its parched bud,

Reaching for the whispering breath of the air’s soft plume.

One by one, the delicate and dainty petals gradually dissolved from the flower bud,

In a manner as if they were evaporating like steam,

That slowly and that steadily.

Two slender veins, supple and exquisite,

Occupy the abundant nourishment of the early morning.

Creeping, curling, just exactly like a reptilian trace,

Expanding upon the petal’s face.

And then—light!

A bright, dazzling ray of light unsheathed,

As accurate and pure as a sharp arrow hitting the bullseye,

A piercing beam, that is untamed and somehow uncontrolled,

Seeks the flower’s lips, its hunger flamed—

A long-awaited feast, like a prisoner who had been deprived of sunlight in a dungeon,

Finally breathing in the sweetest fragrance of sandalwood from the Alpine peak.

The sky, as if with arms outspread,

Descends towards the spiraling veins and flowers nearby,

Stretching and reaching, beyond people’s sight.

The stars, now doubled its original size, burn yet fade,

Transforming back to a hazier and more dispersed pale blue glow,

Assigning the blue pigment on the orchid a gentle yet seductive tone.

The excess dewdrops trickled down the stems,

like a satisfying bubble bath.

The moon and stars,

Content with their masterpiece,

Smiled gently in the sky.

Within the laughter, they bow, they breathe,

Then steal their shadows, take their leave.

I know a new day was about to come:

Which inevitably from horizon again, just as before.

This is a performance automatically generated by Musescore midi program.