‘Dear moon in the sky, what are you compared to the beauty of Zainab? Why should I spare you a single glance when she is by my side? Her face is full of the youthful enchantment that you lost so many centuries ago and the happy smile on her lips makes a mockery of the wrinkles of age upon your face …’ Ibrahim’s dreams were interrupted by Zainab saying:
‘How pretty the moon is!’
‘You’re prettier Zainab.’
He put his arms round her waist and kissed her forehead and temples, then gazed with her at the moon. But his kisses made her anxious and she buried her head against his shoulder. When he felt the strength of her heartbeat he turned towards her and asked:
‘What’s the matter Zainab?’
But Zainab was crying and did not speak. Holding her hand he entreated her again, to which she replied b
