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On the Lord’s hills, white with lustrous light,
Far from rich palaces reeking of wine,
Drunk on the night and sidereal sadness,
The King dreams in self-imposed exile.
Below, mid the wheat, the…
The fire of joy in solitude. . . And since in vain I have made this journey,The ground giving way to my burning steps,Let me embrace this ardorIn abstract revelry* * *
With his asses, male and female,
His woolly sheep and billy goats,
His oxen and his camels
Bearing wineskins on their backs,
With his wives and his handmaids,
His servants and his…
He was home from the East, this pilgrim.
He had left to seek a perfumed flower
that Solomon, whose hands grew dark
from constant prayers for beauty,
had planted in the gardens of En Gedi,
fashioned…
Hear, O Israel!
Will you never tire of repeating in your prayers:
“Praised be the Eternal, who avengeth my injuries,
Who protecteth my rights, who supporteth me in need,
Who crusheth my foes, who…