An unbroken string of azure, cloudless skies have given life to a plethora of roses and carnations and colourful wildflowers,the combined perfumes of which intoxicate all who are near them. This miracle of springtime echoes the youthful innocence of Muazzez Sultana. She visits the garden every day at sunset accompanied by her odalisque. She walks delicately to the second elm-tree where a gilded sofa with solt cushions awaits her under a silk embroidered canopy. The hem of her velvet dress, mebroidered with diamonds,sways with every step she takes, mirroring. The undulating waters of the ever- breezy Bosphorus as they flow past the palace at Sarayburnu.
It is 1642. Not even a full year has passed since the tall Venetian beauty’s wedding to Sultan İbrahim whom she has learned to love passionately. She is the most beautiful of all the favored women of the harem, and its newest arrival. She takes the bejeweled tambour from the hennaed hands of her odalisque, and plucks it passionately, singing:
“Do not tell your secret to unworthy people. Don’t share your joyful yearning with the courtiers, lest it become gossip, a target for their scorn. Oh,my master, my Sultan, My beloved İbrahim! When you are by my side all the happiness of the World is mine.”
The heartfelt verses pour from the rose colored lips of Muazzez Sultana and melt into the melancholic sound of the tambour to become one with the aromatic garden air that wafts high into the sky where angels dance.