« An old, almost faded memory. Snippets of a forgotten melody.
It was at the ball, a long time ago. There was an accordion.
Memory and melody are intimately linked; memory can no longer separate them…
A few notes, and reminiscences arise. An image of the past, and the fragments of a song resound, always incomplete, always different.
Depending on the turn the melody takes, the memory changes: never precise, always changing.
Only in dreams does everything come back to me clearly, as if it were yesterday: the song is finally complete.
But when I wake up, I can’t remember it… »