"Love is the melody of existence that is covered with beauty, and love is the seed of civilization that will not exist without it, and will not be born in its absence... Love is nothing but a question that moves in the lover's heart and addresses him, saying: Why can't I live, and life is far from my beloved...?. And it remains That question hurts the lover's heart and fights his sleep, and he will not find an answer except in his lover's smile, in a language full of giving, and covered with drops of love descending from a sky that has been adorned for its beholder, moving his lips with a smile that changes the letters of speech, and refines its melody, so it becomes the melody of existence... The story, my son, is the story of a lover who was imbued with the love of a girl who was also passionate about his love... so a fire lit inside him instead of burning him as it had burned many before him. How many kings had their kingdom collapsed, neither by a gun nor by a sword, except that they fell into the lake of love and were devoured by a whale, and became one of the fading letters of history. How many poets have had the letters of their verses burned by the love of a lover, whose smoke still wafts through the ages, searching for the seeds of a lover to water them with pain whose taste to the lover is sweeter than sugar, whose scent is sweeter than amber, and whose light is stronger than the light of the sun or the face of the moon.
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