"But suddenly, and without my knowing how, there stirs within me again a tiny measure that smells faintly of love.  Warily, I start to walk amongst it, like walking through pain, delicately, not wanting to wake it.  Then it disappears again, before I can even realise what this awakening of love has meant: its taste has already left me, like the almond blossom petals that stay so briefly on the branches.  Thus everything becomes equal again in the darkness of existence, where only pain grows, and my own distance from love."

We Are All Equally Far From Love, A. Shibli. 

Pg 146

Shibli, A. (2012). We are all equally far from love. Clockroot Books, Northampton, Massachusetts.
Translated by Paul Starkey.