The seven fairies are happy.

In the middle of the night, the seven fairies each took off their robes, put on their veils and smiled down by the cloud, and the purple fairies dared to walk to the door of a guest, reached out to his fingertips for too long, breathed into each other's hands, watched with cold eyes in the light of the moon, had his hands round his back in his ear, others came rounded up, his skirt scoured his legs, laughter down with tremors, and the clouds suddenly turned around, and they split up quickly, with the only purple fairies still standing on the ground, staring at each other, with their mouths swung, like, Waiting for the next moment to lose control of the seven fairies.