The living Logos

When I was still very young, in Bulgaria, I used to go camping with other young brothers, up in the Rila Mountains and, at night, we would sleep all together in the shelters.
Sometimes, in the morning, these brothers would tell me I had sung in my sleep. Apparently they could not understand the words I sang and the songs seemed to be very ancient. Also, the voice I sang with was not my own; it was a very powerful, very resonant voice which impressed them enormously.
I never found out what those songs were, because I never remembered having sung anything in my sleep. Perhaps I still do so, but nowadays there is no one near to hear me.