Foolish is he, who doesn't understand. The legend tells of a gypsy woman, who pleaded with the moon until dawn.
Her knees feel the cold ground beneath her, her hands folded together in a prayer to the white moon above her.
A breeze lifts her hair, her face still, her eyes closed.
Macy bows her head, before looking up towards the full moon, silver and proud in the sky. Then, she lifts her hands.
"Moon, beautiful silver moon. La luna, hermosa luna de plata." She pleas. "I love him so dearly, but he will not notice me. The gypsy man with the tawny skin and the chocolate eyes. Please dear moon, he is as beautiful as your opposite the sun. I love him so dearly. Why shan't I marry him?"
Her white dress, contrasting with her olive skin, blows around her small form, muscular as a gipsy should be, as the night passes. Her hands folded, praying for her only and dearest wish. To hold the love of the beautiful man with the enchanting voice and the care in his eyes. The gypsy man with the guitar.
His smile and the things he says make her smile and make the same words halter in her throat.
but at dawn, as the moon setting to sleep as the sun will enlighten the day, Macy lifts her small hands again. Tears run over her face.
""Moon, beautiful silver moon. La luna, hermosa luna de plata." She pleas. "I am so in love, he enchants my ears and fills my eyes. He makes my heart pound and the light in my soul burns only for him."
Tears drip on the floor of leaves. Her hands reaching towards the moon. It's moonbeams softly stroking her cheeks.
weeping she begged. At the break of dawn. To marry a gipsy man.
The pain in her heart, as she sees him and he does not see her, it is like a flame burning through her veins. Tears fall and her body drops to the ground, exhausted and drained of all will to live.
"Moon, beautiful silver moon. La luna, hermosa luna de plata." She pleas. "I beg you, I would do everything for him to realise his love for me."
Then she closes her eyes, again. The beautiful brown orbs lost of light, her heart convinced she will never hold her true love's attention.
"You'll have tour man, tawny skin," Said the full moon from the sky. "But in return I want the first child that you have with him, because she who sacrifices her child, so that she is not alone, Isn't likely to love it very much."
Macy looks up from the ground as she hears the voice of the moon. A smile graces her lips as she promises the moon her first born child. In return for her true love's heart. It will hurt, but nothing could possibly hurt more then this fire in her heart.
The moon smiles as the gypsy girl runs off, her strand athletic as she is. Her white dress flowing behind her, almost as pure white as the moon herself.
Macy hurried through the trees, back to the gypsy camp. Not knowing what a dangerous promise she had just made to the moon.
We watch through the trees as the gypsy girl runs to find her love. We look up at the moon and sing:
"Moon, you want to be a mother, but you cannot find a love who makes you a woman. Tell me, silver moon, what you intend to do. With a child of flesh, a son of the moon.
Luna, quieres ser madre, Y no encuentras querer. Que te haga mujer. Dime, luna de plata, Qué pretendes hacer. Con un niño de piel. Hijo de la luna." The wish of young Macy comes true, as the moon shines it's enlightening beams into the cinnamon skinned man's eyes. The man with the last name of Jonas sees Macy as if it were the first time and instantly loves her.
They are happy, as the moon watches upon them.
He whispers: "I love you, my hearts desire, mi corazón el deseo, my Macy."
She whispers back: "Not as much as I have always loved you, my love, mi amor, my Nick."
They marry and it is a feast to never forget as Joseph and Kevin, the young man's brothers, lift Macy on their shoulders and shout to the moon how happy she makes their younger brother.
"¿Cómo se le hace tan feliz, no lo sé! Pero estamos contentos por su felicidad, Bienvenido hermana." They sing. "bienvenido hermana. Welcome sister!"
The music flows everywhere. Because both of them have a third love for the melodies.
The moon awaits patiently, for ten months, untill the young couples' first child is born. Nick and Macy couldn't have been happier. Because they did not know what was ahead of them, outside their safe gipsy camp.
From a cinnamon-skinned father. A son was born. White as the back of an ermine, whit grey eyes instead of olive -- moon's albino child.
The child is beautiful in all it's glory as it rests in Macy's tanned hands. It's skin is pale, his eyes are light. He does not carry the mahogany curls of his father. Nor does he cry with his melodic voice.
Nick looks upon the child, sees the happiness in his loved one's eyes, but it doesn't reaches his.
"Damn his appearance! This is not a gipsy man's son and I will not put up with that!"
Nick stands below the moon, his tunic ripped from his frantic run through the woods. He, without knowing, stands at the same place Macy once begged for his love and swears to the moon. He vows, as the pain of betrayal runs through his entire body.
His love, he believes, has been thrown away, has been shattered by the only light in his life. The proof lies in her arms.
We watch the young man, as his tall form stands beneath the teary silver moon and we sing:
"Moon, you want to be a mother, but you cannot find a love who makes you a woman. Tell me, silver moon, what you intend to do. With a child of flesh, a son of the moon.
Luna, quieres ser madre, Y no encuentras querer. Que te haga mujer. Dime, luna de plata, Qué pretendes hacer. Con un niño de piel. Hijo de la luna." Nick turned around, venom in his mouth as tears stain his once so shining eyes. The laugh that has replaced his thoughtful frown now has the form of a snarl. The pain in his heart is unbearable as he walks to their home in the gypsy camp. Through the dark woods, towards the enlightened house.
Out of his belt, he pulls something just as shiny as the silver moon. His boots touch the ground lightly, as his step always is. But this time, it is not his peaceful pace, filled with thought and love.
This time, his stride is full of hurt and dishonour.
Believing to be dishonoured, the gypsy went to his wife. A knife in his hand. "Whose son is this? you've certainly fooled me!"
He stands in front of Macy, who shields the moon's child from his view, as she swears she has never loved someone as dearly has she has him.
He recalls all they shared and the knife falls to his side. Her eyes are too dear to him. the memories to vivid, the love too pure.
Macy relaxes. Her arms hugging her child. As she now certainly loves it.
Nick grits his teeth, his cinnamon skin glowing in the moon's beams. How can she love a child that is not his?
"You cheated on me, I notice." He says.
He raises the knife and throws it at her heart, the heart that never loved him, he believes, in an act of pure rage.
He watches as it wounds her. Mortally... His mouth opens in horror, catches the child as it leaves falls from her lifeles hands, its white skin now covered in her crimson blood. He watches her body fall to the ground, his long piano-fingers reaching for her.
And he wounded her mortally.
Then he went to the woodlands, with the child in his arms and left it behind there.With the child in his arms and the love of his live dead on the ground, he looks up at the moon as sees her white colour and knows why the child is pale.
He screams in horror as he realises his mistake.
Blinded by tears, Nick leaves the house, his stride now full of hurt and regret.
He goes into the woods, walks to their spot, as he now knows it. The child in his arms.
He kisses it's forhead, because he is the only thing that remains of his love. "Lleve su sangre, carry her blood."
He raises it towards the moon, like Macy's hands before him, before gently laying it down on the soft floor of leaves.
He turns around and leaves the child behind. Back to the knife, to be with his love once again.
We watch him leave and hear the child wailing for the warmth of a mothers chest and we sing:
"Moon, you want to be a mother, but you cannot find a love who makes you a woman. Tell me, silver moon, what you intend to do. With a child of flesh, a son of the moon.
Luna, quieres ser madre, Y no encuentras querer. Que te haga mujer. Dime, luna de plata, Qué pretendes hacer. Con un niño de piel. Hijo de la luna."
After a while, the wailing stops, along with his human father's heart. The moon has taken it's child. The gipsies paid the price. The moon holds her child, now finally a mother, not caring about the blood that is shed.
She craddles the pale baby in her even paler arms.
and the nights, when the moon is full. It is because the child is in a good mood.
And if the child cries. The moon wanes, to make it a cradle.
And if the child cries. The moon wanes, to make it a cradle and rock the son of the moon.
Hijo de la luna.==
Nick shoots up in his bed, sweat covering his forhead as he still sees the image of Macy, murdered by his hands. He can still feel her warmth on his skin, the feeling of the knife in his hand. The pain of watching her die. The pain of leaving a child behind to the mercy of the moon.
He looks at the picture, hidden halfly underneath his bed and the higher floor. The picture of him and Macy on the floor by Joe's bed. Laughing at a joke long forgotten, no fake smiles and no poses. Just having fun with each other.
"you're not dead." He tells, half asks the picture before reaching out to it and putting it in the open. "You're okay. I love you. It was just a dream."
Then Nick lays back. His curls on his pillow as he mutters: "Just a dream. Solo un sueño."