Betrothal Festival
Hush! one whit elevation makes many,
Tislite born in Imilchil.
Who knows may write her own fate till her last day?
But only in a secret way.
Which can never be heard nor be told,
But Ait Hiddou and Ait Yaaza can only say.
It's been years since that day,
And now its time to play.
Waiting in the dark with grace of God,
She embraced herself with lights of hope,
Only fir the man whom her father chose.
The nature also knows that its time,
As she throws her rolls,
Only to know that it falls.
But it never happens as its a bliss,
Thats why we say,
That destiny is everybody's wish.
But Tislite was unique like her fate,
Only to make her fall once again.
When finally two stars crossed,
Making Isli and Tislite fall in love.
But their fate was sour,
As they were enemies flower.
Which made them alone and in despair.
Only for them to cry until their repair.
But once their tears formed lakes,
It was decided that Souk Amor Agdoud
N'Oulmghenni will be held once a year.
As a memory to those two legends,
Who died only to be together.
Since then November is the month,
Which happens to be the time,
For each and every Tislite and Isli,
To fall in love and be together forever,
So that the history would never repeat.
And the sound of revelry could be heard,
To those two legends,
Who changed the notion of Imilchil.
Hark! as its not over,
The story still has to be pulled over.
But what can I say,
As I'm an outsider.
Who knows only a way to be together?
Its been years since that fear.
The story that this place holds,
Is always told.
To those who do not bear,
The past and future of their tear.
Time changed air's desire,
But could not change lake's fire.
On their day,
Which is decorated with,
The smiles of Tislite and styles of Isli,
Jewelleries of hope and dresses of their own,
With eyes all around,
Walking within the crowd,
Only to find that one Isli,
To whom Tislite can say "Tq massa n uchemt".
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