They are the abode of peace.
· · · · ·
The flowers bloom in the Desert joyously—
They do not weary themselves with questioning;
They are careless whether they be seen, or praised.
They blossom unto life perfectly and unto death perfectly, leaving nothing unsaid.
They spread a voluptuous carpet for the feet of the Wind
And to the frolic Breezes which overleap them, they whisper:
“Stay a moment, Brother; plunder us of our passion;
Our day is short, but our beauty is eternal.”