OUD ABRAMAD - BDK PARFUMS

OUD ABRAMAD - BDK PARFUMS

At dusk, the doors of the palace close. The light marble has retained the stifling heat of the day. Suddenly, it seems like the garden is calming down and the trees are opening their arms. The desert night advances under the arcades, and the garden is surrounded by dark alcoves. Someone passes silently in the falling darkness. The muffled sound of fabric flowing like a cape can be heard. The discreet sound of leather aging. The slow and proud silhouette moves through the silent garden. It might be Abramad. A heavy door opens, letting in a bit of light. A proud shadow stretches over the stone in the crack of golden light. It disappears. One must look up at the seven windows of the palace, open like big black eyes. In the silent darkness, someone stands there, facing the desert.