A Glimpse from the Adrasan Shore
Sinuous strings Present, aureate gets it, When those agleam rays humbly hit. A curve, be it an arch, laid for sure, Under a fertile field, without exposure To what comes under. Vision-lover, the gleam magnet, Itself a treasure, to a thought pregnant. Wheat field burst into sight, sole border. Greeting the holy cliff, which is under. Oh, those caves, that fresh airflow. Land where lubricate wine. Land where macarize mine. ...