Suddenly I remembered, I could indeed fly. I showed it in the middle of the gathering, where you first looked astonished at me, but then as if you had seen the devil.
I flew away.
In the large apartment then not without fear of unrecognized angles. But at the border of the apartment and at the same time in the midst of it, with both feet yet in the own home standing: a large, powerful, noble portal. The doors made of heavy wood and framed by hosts of angels carved in stone – each angel a few candles guarding.
I flew up.
To set fire to all and which burned down let shine again by new form.
In the stone arch sitting, with the aim and the strenuous attempt, to achieve so too the outermost candles, suddenly became so heavy, as if I had forgotten to fly, for fear of falling down.
Some down there, on the other site, notice the solemn lighting and looking up to the lights, which in the middle of the day and in middle of the night are shining.
The one is happy about the festive light, the other worries about my strength.
Even if I should fall and become too heavy to fly: I would come back, to light too the last candle.