בס״ד
Korach
The sweet almond sprouts and matures,
Leaving bitterness behind,
The dusty brown staff, green once more,
New sap rising from shoresh to crown.
A cloud, not of mist,
But of snow-white blossoms,
Arises before the mishkan,
A spray of flowers.
Scented of milk, and honey,
The petals, falling like the munn,
Form an alabaster carpet,
Such that, though the rod be removed,
The fragrance lingers on.
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