The Memoirs of Jahāngīr (Jahāngīrnāma) 22.3.6

22.3.6

Kashmir is a garden of eternal spring, or an iron fort to a palace of kings — a delightful flower-bed, and a heart-expanding heritage for dervishes. Its pleasant meads and enchanting cascades are beyond all description. There are running streams and fountains beyond count. Wherever the eye reaches, there are verdure and running water. The red rose, the violet, and the narcissus grow of themselves ; in the fields, there are all kinds of flowers and all sorts of sweet-scented herbs more than can be calculated. In the soul-enchanting spring the hills and plains are filled with blossoms ; the gates, the walls, the courts, the roofs, are lighted up by the torches of banquet-adorning tulips. What shall we say of these things or of the wide meadows (julgahd) and the fragrant trefoil ? Verse. “ The garden-nymphs were brilliant, Their cheeks shone like lamps ; There were fragrant buds on their stems (or ‘ under their rind ’), Like dark amulets on the arms of the beloved. The wakeful, ode-rehearsing nightingale Whetted the desires of wine-drinkers ; At each fountain the duck dipped his beak Like golden scissors cutting silk ; There were flower-carpets and fresh rosebuds. The wind fanned the lamps of the roses, The violet braided her locks, The buds tied a knot in the heart.” The finest inflorescence is that of the almond and the peach. Outside the hill-country the commencement of blossoming is the 1st Isfandarmuz (February 10).