This is a story in which feelings are burning, in which stories of love roam on the banks of the River of Love, our steps were walking on a rug strewn with flowers of feelings, and laughter soared across the magical place, and we used to meet everyday moments before sunset, and we used to talk until late at night laughing shyly... And the light of the moon illuminates our meetings, it guards us, and conversations sing our hearts, so their tenderness sways with a whisper that has no equal in the world, and there she wrote the first word she uttered with eagerness, I said to her, ‘I love you’; And tears of happiness flowed down her cheek, so I filled my cups with groans. I drink it fresh when memories pass in the middle of the night; The night is long, life is short, and the sorrows are hymns.