A persian Carpet

Princes tread upon my rainbow silken threads,
colours dyed from fragrant herbs and gold
each woven by nubile maids unsullied, pure.

It's said in song that none that are so pure
may blend each colour of my softest threads,
weave in me her dreams of silver into gold.

Patterns nimble fingers suffuse with gold
lay at your feet unrolled, my splendour pure
that you may walk upon only finest threads.

Threads of gold glow through a beauty pure.

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