Over the sultry seas and snowy peaks,
A rich and glowing sun appears,
Creeping from out the craggy recesses
And pouring through the valley glades.
The pomegranate groves are bathed in light
While they prepare their rubies sweet.
Meanwhile, the shining sun rains down its beams
On gentle streams and placid pools.
As creatures frolic on the verdant fields,
Larks warble in the rustling trees;
And cataracts descend from high above,
Careening into the lush ravines.
As I lie gazing deep within the shade
Of a young pomegranate tree,
Each sight reminds me of my sweetest dreams—
Dreams from which I must soon awake.