You Are My Eternal Muse
Pay no attention to those who say there is no eternal love. Jasmine does not turn into a cactus over time, nor does the sparrow transform into an eagle. A person who has lost love cannot even love themselves.
By Ehab Soltan... The second part of the novel {Limonero II}
Don't worry about the advancing time, my love, because you will always be my girl in every moment. The lifespan of my love for you knows no bounds; you are and will always be a beautiful and sexy woman. You have inhabited my body before I even existed.
You are truly my wonderful girl, beautiful, shining like dewdrops on leaves, like a radiant sun. When you wake up, it's as if the flowers are blooming on the branches. The Earth itself says, "Welcome to this beauty."
My heart does not fade with time, and my love for you is constant and endless. Any doubt that you are the sweetest, most precious, and important woman in the world? Your entrance into my heart marked the grandest day in history. Before I met you, I wasn't in love; I was the oldest capital of pain, and my surgeons are a pharaonic inscription. My pain extends from Cairo to Valencia.
Every day, I contemplate you, the one who lives within me. It is written that my life is to live for you. The first word of love was yours; who else would deserve it? My entire existence is written in your name, and the image of my beloved is drawn in my imagination. You, who have traced my feelings, my love, my life, my longing for you.
You are unique, a woman who will not be repeated in history. You are the essence of love, the fragrance of jasmine, the madness of dreams, and the joy of reality. You are the queen of women, a woman who has mastered life, endured my foolishness, trimmed my nails, and admitted me to kindergarten.
I love you even when you're angry; I love the deceit in your eyes. My love endures in my heart; tear it to pieces if I have offended you. Break my ribs in your embrace, empty your anger into my mouth, but do not go to sleep one day angry or sad with me.
Pay no attention to those who say there is no eternal love. Jasmine does not turn into a cactus over time, nor does the sparrow transform into an eagle. A person who has lost love cannot even love themselves. Would they equate darkness with light or the blind with the one who sees? They sow thorns and reap unity. Over time, they beg for love. My love, the one who sows, reaps what they sow.
I love your self-love. My love for you is not conditioned by time, place, or circumstances. I love your view of your beauty and soul, your treatment of people with great self-esteem, and how your sense of participation adds beauty to your beauty. Each wrinkle represents happiness, suffering, children, friends, obstacles, achievements, overcoming, longings, love, and struggle.
Do not listen to those who doubt my love for you. Only wounds have strong memories, and joy has no memory. Love is not like the leaves of trees in the forest, and lovers are never the same. Love is a great confrontation, sailing against the current, crucifixion and torment, tears and parting among the moons. I do not believe in a love that does not carry the whims of revolutionaries, that does not break all walls, that does not strike like a hurricane.
I love you with my recklessness and madness. I acknowledge that I stole the fire from your eyes and carried out my most dangerous revolution. I am imprisoned between your eyes, and I do not ask to be released. I am at your feet like autumn leaves. You overwhelm me in moments of love, like an earthquake; you burn me. Drown me in your cunning, your vision, your splendor, your eternal youth.
I am a man who loves you. Love with you has transcended all limits, and with you, dreams have come true. My lady, embrace me
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