Bern, the quiet heart of Switzerland, is a city where time flows like the Aare River—steady, clear, and ancient. It is a place where history whispers through cobbled streets, where the scent of rain on sandstone lingers in the air, and where the weight of centuries presses gently on your soul, reminding you that some places are meant to be eternal.

Here, under the shadow of the Zytglogge clock tower, time does not merely pass—it is measured in the rhythm of lovers’ footsteps, in the longing gazes exchanged on the Nydegg Bridge, in the soft glow of lanterns reflecting on the water at dusk. The old town, a UNESCO treasure, holds stories within its arcades—tales of longing, of revolution, of poets who bled ink and lovers who bled hearts.

Bern is not a city that shouts. It does not dazzle like Paris or seduce like Venice. Instead, it calls to you in a voice deep and unwavering, like a lover who has waited lifetimes. It is the city of quiet devotion, of letters never sent but always felt, of promises kept even when the world forgets.

And when the first snowfall kisses the rooftops, when the cathedral bells ring like a heartbeat against the cold sky, when the Aare turns to silver under the moon’s watchful eye—you will know. You will know that Bern is not just a place. It is a feeling, an ache, a love story that never ends.

When people do not have clean water to drink and cannot have clean oxygen. They eat it and turn it into **** after a few minutes. Immorality and weakness of society. They are an ugly quality in human history. We are full of hatred, pain, deceit, theft, racism, whereabouts and selfishness. Lying is our president, deception is our spiritual minister, and our God is money. Our holy verse is our own interests and property .... I am ashamed.