For years it had been neglected, This wilderness garden of ours, And its ruin had shone reflected In its pools through abandoned hours. For none had cared for its beauty...
No eyes shall see the poems that I write For you; not even yours; but after long Forgetful years have passed on our delight Some hand may chance upon a dusty song ...
She was wearing the coral taffeta trousers Someone had brought her from Ispahan, And the little gold coat with pomegranate blossoms, And the coral-hafted feather fan;...