Musical Benzs

The daughter of Al Hassan, I ask if you allow me a question. The feeling of mirrors, every time they see you, complete beauty and the beauty of perfection. I testify that the mirrors have not yet brought you. In your essence, the truth, not drawn by your imagination. How do you dream of your beauty before you possessed it? Your eyelash opened in the morning over your eyelash, nights. Your morning sleeps, nor did your ember fade. Oh the nobility of sweetness, oh the nobility of flirtation. How your elegance melted in a lot of yellow. As much as your return surrounds the universe, your heart was dead from the echo of your steps. A glance from your eyes, nothing after it. A smile from your lips, you planted for the lovers. In your right, a cloud full of dew. In your elevation, humility, I raised with your doctor. The poetry's story is good, and you are for goodness, the pen of a poet has not yet written you. The beauty of perfection and the perfection of perfection. Every eye’s luck from the earth carried you.