I have a sickness doctors can't cure,Inexorably pulling me to the well of my destruction,Consented to be a sacrifice, killed for her love,Eager, like the drunk gulping wine mixed with poison,Shameless were those my nights,Yet my soul loved them beyond all passion.
Ibn Hazm Al-Andalusi, طوق الحمامة في الألفة والألاف
love, philosophy, poetry