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,[FN#400] Their morning-hue to viewer's eye is like * Cascavels[FN#401] 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 Khaulanj á n,[FN#402] whereof quoth the enamoured poet,[FN#403]
"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
