I have dreamed during the whole night. A dreamy Erlking has come to me with his wizardry of muses. I opened my dear soul for his fulfilment as well as for the dreamy moonlit night. A shooting star became my dearest friend, such a weird of some druids…in this starlit night, I feel a paradise in me. The Erlking, a ruler of thousand elves from a holt, told me the most marvellous story about magic not of this time. Listen to me! Do not forget it never, but you are not a forget-me-not!

The Meekest Story

A wise man in former times told kindly that there is the marvellous world behind a primeval birch grove, the so called woodland of Zeus, at each midnight. The gorgeous magical world wakes and dies after seven hours of fulfilment of fire and warmth. There, the magic is released; with that, it pushes in the beautiful world with magic power. There is a silver queen of fire and volcanoes called the Loving of Silver Light. The charm repeats in each night. The Loving of Silver Light was once a woman from Sparta who lived in the ancient world in this city. She was popular with the Goddess of the most beautiful hunting, so that she liked wonderful forests. Each tree was the most propitious trace of the nature which she liked with all of her heart. She spared life and her son was unfortunately sick and the Councilor of Sparta decided to fell him in a mountain slope. It happened according to his will. The mother was, for the sake of the love, a lot of worry and inner bitternewss, so that she fell into circular volcano to suicide. The goddess of hunting has her rescued in the meantime. She told her anyhow: wait for moonlit ghosts, that will carry you the light of liberty. They come from Diana. All ghosts come only when a young dreamer throws down into the volcano a piece of paper with the meekest poem of magnificent tears. The simple woman from Sparta has become the Queen of the volcano and the fire. She had to sleep peacefully all days. She awakes withal every midnight; every time, the awoken and ever-so-propitious moon wakes her with its silver sparkle. For the sake of the warmth, of the silver sparkle awakes her volcano-like ghost at each midnight withal longing and love for forgotten Sparta-worlds, for marvellous woodland and the fossilized goddesses who have forever sunken. Her soul could not be freed, because she has become an Apollonianly beautiful she-ruler. Her enchanted place was this volcano. There, at midnight, some ghost of fire, water, air, and earth had to find their silence and pleasure inside in the crater, before they flocked to the meekly propitious world, carrying the love, wonderful dreams, fulfilment, and good feelings. Sometimes, these powers argue with themselves because of the word-like malice, so that the volcano seems to become exploded. The Loving of Silver Light liked the moon and its light. She has waited for the young dreamer and freeing through Diana’ s ghosts. It was difficult to find this dreamer, because nearby, nobody saw into the volcano in the dark, but it was a moonlit night and threw no poem inside. In a gorgeous night, a human from Poland named Pavel came here and followed the beautiful ways of she-wolves-songs and the ways, illuminated by lunar fulfilment. It led him into a crater of the dreamiest volcano. He threw a piece of paper with the poem entitled “The Rambler and the Time-Like Roads of Sparta” because of the weird of the volcano, so that the Queen with the lunar ghosts has vanished with tender Diana’s ghosts. In the paradise, she has become free and freed.

Since this time, the volcano stops burning. It ferments not any more. Only the moon aches to illuminate kindly for hikers their ways.