Badiah Junaid Perfumes

A song from Bosnia, likely brought to the Balkans by the Ottomans from the Orient, fits this fragrance like a glove. It scatters massive sand dunes over a landscape that can also bloom in vibrant colors. Lost in thought, I stand in the desert. First caught by the heat, then embraced by biting cold. All of this is flooded with rose petals settling on the dusty ground. A timid note of musk spreads in the background. Resinous streams adorn everything finely, allowing themselves to be caressed by soft leather - I let myself be guided by quiet music that swings before me, so close yet so far, making the space tremble. Everything is somehow tangled - I can't keep up. Here the rose - there the desert. There the warmth, here the cold. In the heart, the naturalness, deep inside the synthesis. Everything is quite angular, spicy, and yet shimmering with gold. There is no progression for me here, only the lines where I deeply reflect..

How are you this evening, my beauty -
Wrapped in this white silk caftan?
The night of sin quickly envelops us.
Old, festering wounds awaken once more.

And she doesn't know that I am no longer the person I once was.
The one who wanted to drink happiness from wine.
She doesn't know that I am a mad poet.
The sick among the sick.

Here! - I give you everything. Tears of joy and also laughter.
Just, don't force me to sin.
Here! - I give you everything. Everything I am willing to die for.
Just, don't force me to sin.

Tonight I am the sailor of God's harbor.
Docked at the driest desert on earth.
Tonight I am the boat, amidst the universe.
Tonight I am your servant..

Just, don't force me to sin.
For if I sin, I will devour you and have no sense of life for the rest of my days.

(The longevity is brutal - the sillage embraces many figures. I ponder and am moved! Is this meant for men? But I also like it on my skin)