Classic Poem

Banks of bloom on a billowy plain
Odours of orient in the air,
Pink-tipped petals that fall like rain,
Allah's garden everywhere.

Infinite depths in the blue above,
Glint of gold on the hill-tops gray,
Orioles trilling songs of love
With tireless throats the long June day.

Fields of emerald, tufted white,
Yellow, and azure, far outspread—
O the measureless soul-delight
In the scent of the clover blossoms red!

Revel of joy, sweet ecstasy,
Perfect life of the year begun,
Nothing to whisper of what shall be
When earth lies ripe in the autumn sun,

Never a hint that the orchards wide
Where Heaven's pink incense-torches burn
In the swift on-moving summertide
To heavy-fruited woods shall turn.

Pleasure it is to him who sips
The nectarous sweets that open here,
Maddening bliss to him who dips
Deep in the bowl of the blossoming year.

Banks of bloom on a billowy plain,
Odours of Heaven that fill the air,
Pink-tipped petals that fall like rain,
Allah's garden everywhere!