Everywhere the stars: and above, and below... If from the tent to reach out and dunk into the water of a large river, they will be heard. Far away, on that bank, the lights of the villages burn, connecting with the stars; and here, next to, a blue branch of the willow willows blinks blue-this car's signaling illuminates it.
Not yet the old willow is all tormented by the fishermen, but still alive - and its only remaining branch extends to the stars, as if it wants to escape from this planet. And the miracle begins to happen slowly...
The crown of the seven stars slowly descends on a branch stretched into space and crowns the willow, blessing it. And all the stars and constellations bow to her slowly. And with this seen and accomplished miracle, with the bubbling in the admiration of my consciousness, I fall into the soft non-existence of sleep.