• The sun disappears slowly behind the mountains' peaks,
    Framed by the cloudless sky.
    The wind blows softly, and in my ear it speaks
    Of ages long gone by.

    One by one the legends unfold
    As the stars come out tonight,
    Pictures painted in tales of old
    And told by the twinkling light.

    The sun slowly fades away from view,
    A last moment of color as farewell.
    As the moon comes out, the earth looks new,
    and silenced, as if by a spell.

    New sounds arise, the songs of the earth,
    The night's own gifts to the world.
    The nighttime itself is of immeasurable worth
    As the priceless scenes unfurl.