Author Charles Reznikoff The Hebrew of your poets, Zion, is like oil upon a burn, cool as oil; after work, the smell in the street at night of the hedge in flower. Like Solomon, I have married and married the speech of strangers; none are like you, Shulamite. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments