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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2012-09-08 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] | Scheherazade sheltered within window shop chimes amid bags of spices, gems and flowers, among silks, bracelets leavened with gold, incense, pomegranates, dates sand and tales of wady. Covering her pearly shoulders with soft shawls, weaven from the rain of a single day, soft wool, Amouage perfume roots of stars and pearls. Scheherazade gazes from the eye of chests of lavish colors which the watchman of the skies cannot encompass. She touches the night's ruffles with flowing fingers of agate melting the light over the edge of the world. Scheherazade floats through coffee shops encrusted in sandalwood, dances through the market’s labyrinth, lights Aladdin's lamp on every mountain. Nobody knows where the story begins where it ends only the prince of destiny searches for her dream in love. From right to left, in a whisper abaya, Scheherezade leaves writings on the western shore of the Arabian Sea.
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