After a concert of Mary Wu (In Sant Carles) Almost forty years past without me knowing where the bonfire’s dream of blue smoke began and where it ended in this valley of Atzaró, the dream that stirred me, then, forever on a winter’s copper afternoon. Only your arrival, Mary Wu, upon an august night, with your piano, with your hands, with that melody, (‘The song of the crystal light’, by Joyce Tang) unveiled the secret that was well hidden, well hidden, in the greenest green of the opulent trees, in the abyss of the two fountains, in the stillness of the overflowing pond of the yellow moon, in the silence of the dead like herds, in the black secret of the white well, in the white secret of the black soul of the island. Antonio Colinas