The spreading cypress tree points out where lies
The seat of the ethereal paradise....
Pomegranates rubicund break forth and shine,
A tint whereby thou, ruby, losest sheen.
'Twixt the elm branches hangs the jocund vine,
With branches some of red and some of green....
Then the refined and splendid tapestry,
Covering the rustic ground beneath the feet,
Makes that of Achemeina dull to be,
But makes the shady valley far more sweet.