Every night, he looks up at the stars and makes up stories with strange creatures and fairies.

The other children gather around him. He unfolds the strangest of fairy tales by the sea.
They say his stories are so beautiful that, when he tells them, fish come to the surface, the waves subside and the moon comes down to listen too.


They say that when she looks at the rain from her window, her green eyes become a meadow, watered by the rain.

It looks like she’s been crying…maybe she has.

She waits, looking out of the window.

She doesn’t believe he left her forever, fleeing in the storm that night…she is certain he'll be back…and she waters the meadow of her eyes, looking at the rain outside the window.

He traveled to the edge of the desert with the caravan of his tribe.

He passed through beautiful lands, till he reached the blue sea and heard her sound.

Legend has it that the sea loved him so much that she gave his eyes her magnificent blue color.

Locals who have seen him say that when he looks into your eyes, it’s like plunging into the ocean and swimming amongst the fish. They say, too, that when it's quiet, the sounds of the deep can be heard in the desert.


He sat in the middle of the circle and the dance around him began. He was the king and around him were his subjects, dancing. It was all colors and music. The drums set the rhythm to the dancers under the moonlight.

But it was late, and he got sleepy. He turned to his side and slept. In the morning he was found alone, clutching his monkey, his most loyal follower, in this imaginary dance in his secret kingdom.


He was born in a town with houses made of clay. The windows of his home overlooked the forest. Birdsong and the sounds of the forest came into his bedroom and were his lullaby. It is said that an eagle with a golden crown once landed on his windowsill and asked the prince to follow him.

So he stood at the window, stretched his arms wide open and flew with the eagle-king over the forest.

While he was flying, a bomb dropped on his house.

Only ashes and ruins were left.

The prince flew away with the eagles, they say he lives with them, but many a time people have seen him sitting silently in the ruins of his old home, trying to hear the familiar sounds of the forest.


They saw him among them and asked him where he came from. His strange clothes caught their eye.

He did not answer; only pointed to the forest.

A few days later, the forest got burned.

The firemen found the prince among the burnt trees.

Birds of the forest had nested in his arms.


The girl with the black braids and the flowers on her head is the princess of the loft.
In her town house there was a wooden loft, full of old things, clothes and jewelry that once belonged to her grandmother. She climbed up there whenever she was upset; she opened the trunk and lost herself among the old lace and the long pearl necklaces, turning into a beautiful princess.


He was born inside an igloo in the icy North. When he was twelve, his father gave him a white horse with wings, and taught him how to ride it, traveling over the steppes.

His father had warned the prince never to go too far, because the horse would lose its powers and wouldn't be able to fly.

The prince of ice did not listen to his father's advice and traveled so far that he reached the princess of the loft. He loved her and took her with him, dressed as she was in her long dress made of old lace and her long pearl necklaces. Yet when he pulled her up on his horse, the horse lost its powers of flying and fell with the two young people into the sea.

Her eyes didn't always have this fear. She was happy, playing the princesses with the other girls in the dusty streets. She wrapped her red scarf around her and lost herself in dreams.

But one day, she saw death before her. Since then, her scarf has covered her scared eyes, protecting her from the dust.


He stands there, for hours on end, trying to make out his kingdom through the glass.

Is the glass dim, or perhaps there is no kingdom?

Where are his subjects? Over there, with his reflection?

This game with the princes and the subjects had better stop.

- "It is in no one's best interests", he thought.

On the other hand, though, it feels good to wear the prince's costume…even if it’s not for real.

On the night of the carnival, he dressed up as a prince and took to the streets. He mingled with the crowd and danced his way to the river.

The moon was reflected on the water. On the bridge, under the moonlight, he fell in love.

He jostled through the crowd, trying to get to the slender princess.

The crowd pushed him, not allowing him to approach her. He was certain she saw him too. He saw her trying to get to him.

They didn't meet. The crowd blocked their way.

They spent many carnivals looking for each other until, one day, while talking about princes with a girl on the bridge on the river, he felt his dream come true. He had found his princess.


On the night of the carnival, she dressed up as a princess and took to the streets. She mingled with the crowd and danced her way to the river.

The moon was reflected on the water. On the bridge, under the moonlight, she fell in love.

She jostled through the crowd, trying to get to the handsome prince.

The crowd pushed her, not allowing her to approach him. She was certain he saw her too. She saw him trying to get to her.

They didn't meet. The crowd blocked their way.

They spent many carnivals looking for each other until, one day, while talking about princes with a man on the bridge on the river, she felt her dream come true. She had found her prince.


If he opens his eyes, it will all end.

Because he is not the prince, but the pauper. What will everyone who thought he was a prince think?

He knows only too well that we will ignore him, as soon as he reveals who he really is. So he stands with his eyes hidden.

Let him be.