And if there is no lining to the world? If a thrush on a branch is not a sign, But just a thrush on the branch? If night and day Make no sense following each other?
All was taken away from you: white dresses, wings, even existence.
You who think of us: they lived only in delusion... Know that we the People of the Book, will never die!
Be young forever, seasons of the earth.
Grow your tree of falsehood from a small grain of truth.
Yet falling in love is not the same as being able to love.