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Foreign to me are trees in bloom
And grass and air and sky
What storms have banished me
From Eden
What blazing fire from the sun
Your wind won’t dry these tears
Land of exile
Your rain won’t…
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…