The Trees and Flowers Their Turbans Roll

The trees and flowers their turbans roll of black and white and red
The garden fastens on its stole of black and white and red.

With sable eve and ermine dawn and fes of sunset bright,
The sky doth all its pomp unroll of black and white and red.

The pupils of my eyes are points upon the gleaming page,
With tears of blood I've writ a scroll of black and white and red.

The youthful Magian's locks and breast were shadowed in the wine;
It seemed as though they filled the bowl with black and white and red.

Is't ambergris, or is it pearl, or coral, Fâzil, say.
This poesy thy reed doth troll, of black and white and red?