If the poet was Lord Tartary, he would get up early from his ivory bed. Trumpeters would summon him for his meals, while sweet and gay music would play on harp, flute and mandoline. He would wear robes of beads white, gold and green in colour with his short sword before the waning of the morning star. He would go to the valley through thick woods in a carriage drawn by seven zebras. He would watch the flashing stars, the trembling lakes and the citrus trees in the purple valley.