A PERSIAN GARDEN 79 



Junes that come and go in this fair garden, 

 great clusters of white and purple grapes 

 which ripen with the early frosts. First the 

 Hyacinths and the Tulips awaken the garden; 

 then the Hawthorn blossoms greet the Violets. 

 After that this little paradise is a gorgeous 

 Rose garden, making early summer and again 

 the early autumn glisten with their jewels. 

 When the sweet Rose-leaves have been wafted 

 afar by autumn winds — ^perhaps to some 

 Naishapur; who knows! — the purpling fruit 

 of the Vine lends color rich and harmonious 

 the last yellowed leaves of yonder old Chest- 

 nut tree are blown into the garden to mantle 

 it with tapestry of rich brocade. Ah, what a 

 tree! Beneath its noble branches, branches 

 that have known two centuries, is a rustic seat 

 and there one reads: 



"A jug of Wine, a loaf of Bread — and Thou 

 Beside me singing in the wilderness — 

 Oh, wilderness were Paradise enow!" 



And when one leaves this little garden there 

 come to mind the words of Kisai, Kisai who 

 lived before Omar saw light of day: 



