برهوت الفارسية 1447

Azalia, what a beautiful name.

You ask who gave you this lovely name?...

I open my book upon the earth beneath your feet. Read, Azalia. This is not my book. It is yours.

I do not write to imprison you in melancholy. I do not write to wound your spirit with the bitterness of sorrow's seeds. I do not write so that you may exhume your homeland like a corpse from its grave, embalm it, set it upright in the hall of an idol-house, and worship it.

I write so that you may know, Azalia, that it is a beautiful name because it is your name.

Why should you worship your name?

Whether you worship it or not, it remains a beautiful name: Azalia.

There is not a single flower in this world that does not bear a name, and whose mother does not call it by that name.

Your name is Azalia.

I write my book so that I may speak your name:

Azalia.