Calling All Angels by April Aromatics के बारे में अक्सर पूछे जाने वाले प्रश्न
Calling All Angels by April Aromatics की खुशबू कैसी है?
Calling All Angels by April Aromatics में Honey, Incense, and Rose के मिडिल नोट्स and Amber, Benzoin, Elemi, Labdanum, Olibanum (Frankincense), Opoponax, Tonka Bean, Vanilla, and Woody Notes के बेस नोट्स हैं।
Calling All Angels by April Aromatics को किसने बनाया?
Calling All Angels by April Aromatics को Tanja Bochnig ने बनाया था।
Calling All Angels by April Aromatics कब रिलीज़ हुआ था?
Calling All Angels by April Aromatics 2013 में रिलीज़ हुआ था।
April Aromatics Calling All Angels is plump unearthly fruits, gorged on ancient amber nectar, hanging heavy at twilight, eventually drying and cracking in the heat of a dying sun. Silent sisters, veiled in mystery, stretch these honey-drunk orbs across a vast expanse of time littered with bone, their flesh becoming supple leather under reverent, unceasing hands. Wisps of aromatic smoke rise from flint-scattered pyres, and the air crackles with the essence of aeons compressed into chips of burnished crystal, shards of petrified sunlight, and the tawny tears of grieving trees. The sisters' nimble fingers arrange fragments of balsamic fruit-flesh and sticky sap-jewels, the assemblage of an olfactory mosaic, redolent of a hallowed sweetness entirely beyond mortality’s grasp. In this fragrance of plummy depths wreathed with leathery whispers, of resinous rituals and sacred smoke, the boundaries between plant, mineral, and devotion blur into a hazy, intoxicating mirage, an ambrosial testament to the everlasting, endless, and eternal.
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२ वर्ष पहले
April Aromatics से Calling All Angels2013 में रिलीज़ हुआ था। इस रचना के पीछे इत्र निर्माता Tanja Bochnig हैं। इसमें Honey, Incense, and Rose के मिडिल नोट्स and Amber, Benzoin, Elemi, Labdanum, Olibanum (Frankincense), Opoponax, Tonka Bean, Vanilla, and Woody Notes के बेस नोट्स हैं।
April Aromatics Calling All Angels is plump unearthly fruits, gorged on ancient amber nectar, hanging heavy at twilight, eventually drying and cracking in the heat of a dying sun. Silent sisters, veiled in mystery, stretch these honey-drunk orbs across a vast expanse of time littered with bone, their flesh becoming supple leather under reverent, unceasing hands. Wisps of aromatic smoke rise from flint-scattered pyres, and the air crackles with the essence of aeons compressed into chips of burnished crystal, shards of petrified sunlight, and the tawny tears of grieving trees. The sisters' nimble fingers arrange fragments of balsamic fruit-flesh and sticky sap-jewels, the assemblage of an olfactory mosaic, redolent of a hallowed sweetness entirely beyond mortality’s grasp. In this fragrance of plummy depths wreathed with leathery whispers, of resinous rituals and sacred smoke, the boundaries between plant, mineral, and devotion blur into a hazy, intoxicating mirage, an ambrosial testament to the everlasting, endless, and eternal.