The train left westwards on a saturday sunrise
We rode along the linear scaffold
To a fertile sidetrack
Not yet been tamed
By urban architecture
Unknown in a rural village
Tresspassing by television natives
Rows of rusty tracktors left behind
To keep the sunset company
We strived the valley sides
Reached the bright blue castle
It appeared in defiant solitude
Spreading scraps of paint
Out on the october sky surface
From inside a giant panorama
Our conversation evolved
To women and witches and sex
We ate the saucy food
And drank rumanian red
Before nightfall dragged us into its coat
To watch the circular star belt
Wrapping us tightly together
In the pale flame of the paraffin lamp
A blue rope lowered onto glowing necks
We entered the circle of branches spread out
Like coutryside bohemians
Reeking of whisky and whool
The knife cut from grey to red
A brotherhood of blood
Dripping down on the heather
And into the soil
We were mystics balancing
On the plunge of knowledge
Ready to fall in ecstacy
Or retire in smart stupidity
After a one-night stand
With anima mundi