The scent of aloe, the taste of fruit:
a land of luxurious bliss.
Bricks that were glazed and blued
were part of the splendour:
a wealth in that hue - so rich and fine.
Green is a beautiful colour.
And who could ever be unhappy,
surrounded by emerald leaves?
The sound of trickling water
is a melody: it sings in the air.
Flow, make joy, my wonderful friend:
Nourish and nurture us all.
Tall are the date palms around me.
I climb one, delight in the view.
Was I ever this content before?
I stroll across sun-warmed patios:
pathways to a mystical land.
Yet what world inadequate holds this?
Stand on the uppermost terrace.
Sigh with the breeze that cools.
Happy are we in the Hanging Gardens.