She Is my luminous angel, and darkened devil, for her Is my life, and for her will be my death. She Is the sun, the moon, and the stars at a time, and she Is the sorrow, the distress, and the pain at the same time. She Is the oldest danger, the greatest secret, whoever sees her exquisite beauty for the first time thinks he Is admitted Into paradise, but when he knows It well he falls Into her hell. She Is whom words cannot describe, poetry cannot praise, an eloquent one Is the one who falls silent when seeing. She was a girl I knew In my younger years, who got the summer running through her eyes, the winter through her lids, the spring through her lips, and the autumn.. alas! her memory passed away with Its leaves.. A nocturnal story, can't be read during the day.