‘Oh,’ He said ‘let me, let me dwell on my melancholy hill. Those blue whistling winds of past times, they feel like a warm aching bath in the vastness of the ocean.’ His voice calmed a bit as his eyes wandered with a hollow view towards the half wilted flowers on the table. ‘Whenever I dip my head under the waters I can hear forgotten voices, while the salty sea embraces old, half scarred wounds but also soothes my mind.’ He raised his view and said in a more insisting tone. ‘Oh yes!’ To be sure these waters can be stormy and treacherous, and if you don’t know how to sail or let alone swim, it will drag you down into the abyss.’ Suddenly a gentle smile began to cover his lips as he continued: ‘But, if you manage to stay on the surface, you might be able to hear those glistening melodies, guiding you towards the Islands of the pleasures of life.’