In the obscurity of the night, enlightened by the reflection of the moon on the water, a young woman flies. She woke up when everyone else fell asleep. Away from the noise of the day, the bright light and the worries, she feels free while travelling in the dark. Her undulating red hair follows her voluptuous body as she arches and moves gracefully her arms towards the sky. She floats like and angel, holding with the finesse of a swan, the muslin piece of fabric tinted in deep blues and enhanced with golden patterns. She is the incarnation of life when the world has silenced. She twirls in the wind, letting the birds and the animals of the night play with her veil, unveiling parts of her body that she would want to hide. She marvels before the landscapes which she barely recognizes at night. Never afraid, the star which shines above her front head protects her from the ill-intentioned and the spells. If daylight is a synonym of sound and motion, the night calls for unspoken mysteries and divine dreams. Nothing is said out loud, the air and the stars hold secrets and fantasies. The lady prefers it that way, when subtlety becomes a language, and words, breaths. Her presence reigns in the realm of the night. Soon she knows that it will all be over. The sun will rise and the eyes will open in the homes. Her reality of beauty will fade away, and so will she.

Listen while reading: Giselle, Act 2: No10 appearance of Myrtha, Queen of the Wilis