There beans, cabbages, carrots grow
 with the running vines of grapes
 and the golden rows of oranges
 in the sweet scent of mangos--
 all luscious, juicy, silver dewy,
 bathed in the raw odor of the earth.
 Yet if during the harvest season
 farmer of the garden surprisingly
 finds a rose in exuberant blossom,
 petals purple and stem emerald;
 what's that something occurs to him,
 mystery, profit, or treasure?