By Prince Junna

Aloof from the world the lone villa stood
Midst ponds and bamboos, on the edge of a wood.
Coral-hued rose fruits told that spring now was past,
While green mosses heralded summer at last.
The tea was made ‘neath the trees in a glade.
Sultan’s parasols sheltered as harps softly
The Phoenix prevailed–all cares were for-gotten–
Then in darkness, at length, the path home- ward was trodden.

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