Melodies that we will not hear again, women whose faces we see in the realm of mirages and which in vain we search for the crowded streets of reality, situations rocambolescas, impossible trips, sadness without name, architectures of nightmare, terrors or desires that sink its roots in the depths of our being, paradisiacal visions whose beauty seems to evoke something as remote as true ... Between the perpetual amazement before a continent always mutant and to be explored, with its own laws, and a costumbrismo dreamlike not without a humor completely surrealist, Nights without night and some days without day, Leiris' dream diary - writer and ethnographer related to figures like Bataille or André Breton - that covers several decades of the life of its author, it approaches of a pleasant and fascinating way to that parallel existence that we all carry at night, and does it trying to build bridges (that is, to establish a meaning, to read in the alphabet of Morpheus and bring their possible messages to the shores of the morning) that help to overcome the day / night, sleep / wake. Dreams are the most intimate and the strangest thing we have, and our relationship with them is also ambiguous, because they make the enigmatic close and reveal the disturbing or exotic aspect of the familiar.