an

    arro sunset hrough a horn of horn.

    to enter, topped me and asked of me who

    I  I he

    city of Mecca, whe Koran was

    embroidered in silver letters by they

    reated me to pass in.

    Inside it is even as a bazaar.  Surely t have been

    reets terns of paper

    flutter like large butterflies.  he roofs

    ted bubbles do.  In front of ths

    sit ts on silken carpets.  traight black

    beards, and turbans are covered h golden sequins, and long

    strings of amber and carved peacones glide their cool

    fingers.  Some of them sell galbanum and nard, and curious perfumes

    from thick oil of red roses,

    and myrrtle nail-sops to speak

    to throw pinches of frankincense upon a charcoal brazier

    and make t.  I saw a Syrian who held in his hands a

    t, and its

    odour as it burned he pink almond in spring.

    Ots embossed all over h creamy blue

    turquoise stones, and anklets of brass tle

    pearls, and tigers cla in gold, and t gilt

    cat, t in gold also, and earrings of pierced

    emerald, and finger-rings of ea-houses

    comes tar, and their

    at the passers-by.

    Of a trut he wine-sellers

    elbo black skins on their

    s of the wine of Schiraz, which is as

    s as  in little metal cups and strew rose

    leaves upon it.  In t-place stand tsellers, who

    sell all kinds of fruit:  ripe figs, heir bruised purple

    flesopaze