OUD ABRAMAD - BDK PARFUMS
OUD ABRAMAD - BDK PARFUMS
At dusk the palace doors close. The light marble has retained the stifling heat of the day. One would suddenly believe that the garden is calming down and that the trees are opening their arms. The desert night advances under the arcades and the garden is as if surrounded by dark alcoves. Someone passes silently in the falling darkness. One hears the muffled sound of a fabric that ripples like a cape. the discreet sound of leather that is patinated. The slow and haughty silhouette passes into the silent garden. It is perhaps Abramad. A heavy door opens and lets in a little light. A proud shadow stretches over the stone in the half-open golden light. It disappears. One must raise one's head towards the seven windows of the palace, open like large black eyes. In the silent darkness, someone stands there, facing the desert.