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Author's name: Muhammad Al-Bazhar

Love is a refined language, difficult to explain as speech understood by all people, rather it is a sweet erotic poem, its taste is sweet and pungent, the lover hears it and transforms it with his ear into a song, he is intoxicated by its meanings, and he hears it with an empty heart and classifies it as something of noise and superfluous talk, like a political sermon in the ears of hungry people for whom you have spread a table of delicious food. Love is not a need as much as it is the melting of the lover in the person of his beloved, love is not lust and whoever classifies it as such is a liar and a defiler, because love is purity and cleanliness and keenness, as if you are going to heaven dead and the spirit is revived in you, love is a fragrance emanating from everything, love is a green color for every tree, love is rain at the wrong time, how do you want me to explain all of that to you and I who have never loved language but loved language, poetry, prose, stories and theater, how do I make you understand that love is to love what I do not love for the sake of the one I love, how love made me be born again and see the world with different eyes, how do I understand you while your heart is filled with nothing but hatred Envy and hatred