And jujube-plums of various colours, grown in clusters and alone whereof saith one, describing them:—
Look at the Lote-tree, note on boughs arrayed ✿ Like goodly apricots on reed-strown floor,[[399]]
Their morning-hue to viewer’s eye is like ✿ Cascavels[[400]] cast of purest golden ore.
And as saith another and saith right well:—
The Jujube-tree each Day ✿ Robeth in bright array.
As though each pome thereon ✿ Would self to sight display.
Like falcon-bell of gold ✿ Swinging from every spray.
And in that garth grew blood oranges, as they were the Khaulanján,[[401]] whereof quoth the enamoured poet[[402]]:—
Red fruits that fill the hand, and shine with sheen ✿ Of fire, albe the scarf-skin’s white as snow.
’Tis marvel snow on fire doth never melt ✿ And, stranger still, ne’er burns this living lowe!