I had not seen your courtyard,I had not tasted the vineyards you told me of,I had not bathed in spring water beneath the rock,I had not climbed the mountain peak on hands and knees.I dreamed of the vine beneath the window,and felt your mother’s footsteps like a shadow,with her lap full of pomegranates and apples,with her pure smile, honey of the gods.We went there...Your good mother sat down facing me,touched me with her gaze so I wouldn’t be shy,took my hand and kissed it slowly,gave me light from her gentle soul.I walked down the cobbled alleyway,felt the pebbles slipping beneath my shoes,your father watched me, curious and silent,he didn’t wait long, he came and sat between us.We drank the first run of raki, like men,I didn’t get drunk, because I had you so close,I traveled beneath the shadow of your memories,I saw your parents, kissed them, got to know them.They gave us their blessing...“Welcome, little butterfly!” they told me.