 
You slide across the branches,
Your glitter is fertile pollen,
You're shadows in the shape of leaves.
A wind that ripples the crest of waves against the current,
You caress the rivers but you are the springs.
Your eyes: buds which are moistened by the dew,
Beyond webs of obscurity.
The branches swing you
Then you glide on your transparent wings.
 
| 1 | Nothingness | 
| 2 | Medusa | 
| 3 | The Grave | 
| 4 | Sepulchres | 
| 5 | The Land Beyond | 
| 6 | The Cliff of Suicide | 
| 7 | The Monk | 
| 8 | Stagione Oscura | 
| 9 | Penelope | 
| 10 | Spirit Dance |