The Song of Songs 8

The Beloved to Her Lover: Oh, how I wish you were my little brother, nursing at my mother’s breasts; if I saw you outside, I could kiss you— surely no one would despise me!

I would lead you and bring you to my mother’s house, the one who taught me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the nectar of my pomegranates.

The Beloved about Her Lover: His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me.

The Beloved to the Maidens: I admonish you, O maidens of Jerusalem: “Do not arouse or awaken love until it pleases!”

The Maidens about His Beloved: Who is this coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?The Beloved to Her Lover: Under the apple tree I aroused you; there your mother conceived you; there she who bore you was in labor of childbirth.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Set me like a cylinder seal over your heart, like a signet on your arm. For love is as strong as death; passion is as unrelenting as Sheol. Its flames burst forth; it is a blazing flame.

Surging waters cannot quench love; floodwaters cannot overflow it. If someone were to offer all his possessions to buy love, the offer would be utterly despised.

The Beloved’s Brothers: We have a little sister, and as yet she has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister on the day when she is spoken for?

If she is a wall, we will build on her a battlement of silver; but if she is a door, we will barricade her with boards of cedar.

The Beloved: I was a wall, and my breasts were like fortress towers. Then I found favor in his eyes.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Solomon had a vineyard at Baal Hamon; he leased out the vineyard to those who maintained it. Each was to bring 1,000 shekels of silver for its fruit.

My vineyard, which belongs to me, is at my disposal alone. The thousand shekels belong to you, O Solomon, and 200 shekels belong to those who maintain it for its fruit.

The Lover to His Beloved: O you who stay in the gardens, my companions are listening attentively for your voice; let me be the one to hear it!

The Beloved to Her Lover: Make haste, my beloved! Be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.