There's a room in my soul where the old shattered dreams Lie in pieces all over the floor Where the stillness of time shades the windows, it seems And a demon stands guard at the door But sometimes a memory lights in my mind And it shines in the soft attic air And a strange kind of music plays sweetly and kind That I let myself hear, if I dare This flower of the mountain, this girl Andalusion, This force I could not understand Yes your touch Miss Helenius was, in conclusion The caress of a Theremin hand But like delicate fragrance of madeleines dipped Into lime-flowers long gone away Your succulent kiss so deliciously sipped Beguiles me even today