His hand wandered slowly and lovingly along the leg, gently tracing the body contours, the steep ups and downs of the hips, the soft curve of the shoulder, the smooth cheek...
For months he worked, lonely and obsessed, on the great, fragrant piece of wood. Hardly slept and carved, hammered, scratched, sanded, polished. Gradually, the tools became finer, were detached from the fine sandpaper, and then polished extensively with a soft oiled cloth. Now, highly sensitive fingertips made their final journey, searching for last invisible imperfections. But she was perfect. He stepped back and admired his completed work. Now she lay there, his sleeping sandalwood goddess, on her right side, resting her head on her elbow, her long hair spread around her, with a carved narrow scarf modestly covering her loins. As real as the shadows of tightly closed eyelashes on her cheeks, as true as the relaxed fingers on her chest. From a bowl, he poured flowers over her, carefully, almost out of fear of waking her. And sat, and remained silent, and stared for what felt like an eternity. The sun peeked through the leaves at the window into the workshop, casting small flickering lights inside and shimmering on her smooth, flower-dusted “skin.”
The day bowed before Her Majesty, the night. And slowly and exhausted, our master fell asleep... Psst...
The eyelashes trembled, the finger twitched gently. The old table creaked softly. The silk scarf glided silently to her feet. On tiptoes, she sneaked to the door, paused briefly at his bed. Sleepily, he smiled, murmured “what a beautiful dream!” and turned to the wall.
Meanwhile, she stood in the doorway. Stretching indulgently in the soft pearly light of the moon, she shook the flower dust from her hair.
'Beautiful is what you see. More beautiful is what you dream!' (c) Luc de Clapiers, Marquis de Vauvenargues
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So extensive is the Guerlain portfolio. So great and so beloved are the old names... Often far too grand for little Jumi. Enthusiastic about many of them, I am, as always, very hesitant to wear them. That one is not me. That one does not suit me. And that one feels forced. And that one casts me in its shadow. Some of the newer ones, however, often make you want to shake them awake and shove their family tree (or even their puddles) in their faces... This one crept on tiptoes, very, very late, into the heart. As the best vintage version, ahead of the EdP and EdT, in the old rich red, not in the new uniform “clone bottle.” I do not know the new version and do not wish to get to know it. Out of fear it might destroy the dream for me. My sandalwood dream, initially carried by the cool, green wind. Dusted with the finest flower dust - in its entirety unbreakable, only jasmine and ylang can I recognize - which lays like a silk veil over the wood. The sandalwood - here an ode. Those who do not like sandalwood will find nothing to say in Samsara. A perfect, unique balance between creamy, slightly soapy sandalwood and strong, but not overwhelming flowers, which, with their rounding, Guerlain-typical, mature, this time very subtly applied sweetness, provides an in-finite long (well over 20 hours!) fragrance pleasure and weaves a dreamily creamy soft sillage silk cocoon around me. Not a bit out of date and not old-fashioned (goddesses are known to not age :)) And if all Guerlains were to disappear overnight, and only one could remain, my choice would fall on this extrait. On Samsara.
Top Notes 
Ylang-ylang
Green notes
Peach
Bergamot
Lemon
Heart Notes 
Carnation
Jasmine
Narcissus
Orris root
Rose
Violet
Base Notes 
Sandalwood
Tonka bean
Vanilla
Amber
Iris
Musk
JonasP1
Schalkerin
Salva
SchatzSucher
Verbena
Yatagan
Ergoproxy
Duftessa
Gold
Sinioerkel
