Where are the dancers in the light?
Why's gone the beauty from my sight?
I loved the effervescent fay.
Why must they die when ends the day?
In dreams, I pray I'll find again
—in dreams, the fairies dance with men—
those unsad waltzers of the air.
But no! They're back. Here, they return.
The stars of night so gently burn.
Unsad Waltzers
Tale Told 