"As all contemporary European observers testified, the Sultan was completely smitten with his new concubine. She quickly ousted the mother of the Sultan’s first-born son, the beautiful Circassian Gulbehar (Mahidevran, in other sources), from the position of favorite concubine. Suleiman’s love for Hurrem found powerful expression in his poetic letters to her. When both Navagero and Trevisano wrote in their 1553 and 1554 reports to Venice that she was “much loved by her master” (“tanto amata da sua maestà”), Roxolana was already in her fifties, long past her prime. After her death in April 1558, Suleiman remained inconsolable for a long time. She was the greatest love of his life, his soulmate and lawful wife, and a woman of extraordinary character. — Galina Yermolenko, Roxelana: the Greatest Empresse of the East
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Love will make you crazy, Eileen.
You’ll probably never understand that.
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"My throne of solitude, my everything, my beloved, my shining moon,
My friend, my privacy, my everything, my shah all those who are beautiful, my sultan,
My life, my existence, my lifetime, my wine of youth, my heaven,
My spring, my joy, my day, my beloved, my laughing rose.
My delight, my wine, my tavern, my lamp, my light, my candle,
My orange and pomegranate and sour orange, my candle of night,
My plant, my sugar, my treasure, my delicate in world,
My saint, my Joseph, my everything, my Khan of my heart´s Egypt.
My Istanbul, My Karaman, my land of Rum,
My Bedehşan, my Kıpchak, my Bagdad, my Horosan,
My woman of the beautiful hair, my love of the slanted brow, my love of eyes full of mischief,
My blood is on your hands if I die, have mercy oh my non-Muslim,
I am a flatterer at your door, I always praise you,
Though my heart is full of sorrow, and my eye full of tears, I am Muhibbi and I am happy."
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