Song of Songs
1
1 The Song of Songs, which is Solomon’s.
2 Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! / For your love is better than wine.
3 Your anointing oils have a pleasant fragrance; / Your name is like ointment poured forth; / Therefore the virgins love you.
4 Draw me; we will run after you — The king has brought me into his chambers — / We will be glad and rejoice in you; / We will extol your love more than wine. / Rightly do they love you.
5 I am black but lovely, O daughters of Jerusalem, / Like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon.
6 Do not look at me, because I am black, / Because the sun has scorched me. / My mother’s sons were angry with me; / They made me keeper of the vineyards, / But my own vineyard I have not kept.
7 Tell me, you whom my soul loves, Where do you pasture your flock? / Where do you make it lie down at noon? / For why should I be like one who is veiled / Beside the flocks of your companions?
8 If you yourself do not know, / You fairest among women, / Go forth on the footsteps of the flock, / And pasture your young goats / By the shepherds’ tents.
9 I compare you, my love, / To a mare among Pharaoh’s chariots.
10 Your cheeks are lovely with plaits of ornaments, / Your neck with strings of jewels.
11 We will make you plaits of gold / With studs of silver.
12 While the king was at his table, / My spikenard gave forth its fragrance.
13 My beloved is to me a bundle of myrrh / That lies at night between my breasts.
14 My beloved is to me a cluster of henna flowers / In the vineyards of En-gedi.
15 Oh, you are beautiful, my love! / Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes are like doves.
16 Oh, you are beautiful, my beloved; indeed, pleasant! Indeed, our couch is green.
17 The beams of our house are cedars; / Our rafters are cypresses.
2
1 I am a rose of Sharon, / A lily of the valleys.
2 As a lily among thorns, / So is my love among the daughters.
3 As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, / So is my beloved among the sons: In his shade I delighted and sat down, / And his fruit was sweet to my taste.
4 He brought me into the banqueting house, / And his banner over me was love.
5 Sustain me with raisin cakes, / Refresh me with apples, / For I am sick with love.
6 His left hand is under my head, / And his right hand embraces me.
7 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, / By the gazelles or by the hinds of the fields, / Not to rouse up or awaken my love / Until she pleases.
8 The voice of my beloved! Now he comes, / Leaping upon the mountains, / Skipping upon the hills.
9 My beloved is like a gazelle or a young hart. / Now he stands behind our wall; / He is looking through the windows, / He is glancing through the lattice.
10 My beloved responds and says to me, / Rise up, my love, / My beauty, and come away;
11 For now the winter is past; / The rain is over and gone.
12 Flowers appear on the earth; / The time of singing has come, / And the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
13 The fig tree has ripened its figs, / And the vines are in blossom — they give forth their fragrance. / Rise up, my love, / My beauty, and come away.
14 My dove, in the clefts of the rock, / In the covert of the precipice,Let me see your countenance, / Let me hear your voice; / For your voice is sweet, / And your countenance is lovely.
15 Catch the foxes for us, / The little foxes, / That ruin the vineyards / While our vineyards are in blossom.
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his; / He pastures his flock among the lilies.
17 Until the day dawns and the shadows flee away, / Turn, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young hart / On the mountains of Bether.
3
1 On my bed night after night / I sought him whom my soul loves; / I sought him, but found him not.
2 I will rise now and go about in the city; / In the streets and in the squares / I will seek him whom my soul loves. / I sought him, but found him not.
3 The watchmen who go about in the city found me — / Have you seen him whom my soul loves?
4 Scarcely had I passed them / When I found him whom my soul loves; / I held him and would not let go / Until I had brought him into my mother’s house / And into the chamber of her who conceived me.
5 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, / By the gazelles or by the hinds of the fields, / Not to rouse up or awaken my love / Until she pleases.
6 Who is she who comes up from the wilderness / Like pillars of smoke, / Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, / With all the fragrant powders of the merchant?
7 There is Solomon’s bed; / Sixty mighty men surround it, / Of the mighty men of Israel.
8 All of them wield the sword and are expert in war; / Each man has his sword at his thigh / Because of the night alarms.
9 King Solomon made himself a palanquin / Of the wood of Lebanon.
10 Its posts he made of silver; / Its bottom, of gold; / Its seat, of purple; / Its midst was inlaid with love / From the daughters of Jerusalem.
11 Go forth, O daughters of Zion, / And look at King Solomon with the crown / With which his mother crowned him / On the day of his espousals, / Yes, on the day of the gladness of his heart.
4
1 Oh, you are beautiful, my love! / Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes are like doves behind your veil; / Your hair is like a flock of goats / That repose on Mount Gilead.
2 Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes / That have come up from the washing, / All of which have borne twins, / And none of them is bereaved of her young.
3 Your lips are like a scarlet thread, / And your mouth is lovely; / Your cheeks are like a piece of pomegranate / Behind your veil.
4 Your neck is like the tower of David, / Built for an armory: / A thousand bucklers hang on it, / All the shields of the mighty men.
5 Your two breasts are like two fawns, / Twins of a gazelle, / That feed among the lilies.
6 Until the day dawns and the shadows flee away, / I, for my part, will go to the mountain of myrrh / And to the hill of frankincense.
7 You are altogether beautiful, my love, / And there is no blemish in you.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride; / With me from Lebanon come. / Look from the top of Amana, / From the top of Senir and Hermon, / From the lions’ dens, / From the leopards’ mountains.
9 You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride; / You have ravished my heart with one glance of your eyes, / With one strand of your necklace.
10 How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride! / How much better is your love than wine, / And the fragrance of your ointments / Than all spices!
11 Your lips drip fresh honey, my bride; / Honey and milk are under your tongue; / And the fragrance of your garments / Is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
12 A garden enclosed is my sister, my bride, / A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
13 Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates / With choicest fruit; / Henna with spikenard,
14 Spikenard and saffron; / Calamus and cinnamon, / With all the trees of frankincense; / Myrrh and aloes, / With all the chief spices.
15 A fountain in gardens, / A well of living water, / And streams from Lebanon.
16 Awake, O north wind; / And come, O south wind! / Blow upon my garden: / Let its spices flow forth; / Let my beloved come into his garden / And eat his choicest fruit.
5
1 I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; / I have gathered my myrrh with my spice;I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; / I have drunk my wine with my milk. / Eat, O friends; / Drink, and drink deeply, O beloved ones!
2 I sleep, but my heart is awake. / A sound! My beloved is knocking. / Open to me, my sister, my love, / My dove, my perfect one; / For my head is drenched with dew, / My locks with the drops of night.
3 I have put off my garment; / How can I put it on again? / I have washed my feet; / How can I dirty them again?
4 My beloved put his hand into the opening of the door, / And my inner parts yearned for him.
5 I rose up to open to my beloved; / And my hands dripped with myrrh, / My fingers with liquid myrrh, / Upon the handles of the bolt.
6 I opened to my beloved, / But my beloved had withdrawn; he was gone. / My soul failed when he spoke; / I sought him, but found him not; / I called him — he answered me not.
7 The watchmen who go about the city found me. / They struck me; they wounded me; / The keepers of the walls took my veil from me.
8 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, / If you find my beloved, / What shall you tell him? / That I am sick with love.
9 What is your beloved more than some other’s beloved, / O you most beautiful among women? / What is your beloved more than some other’s beloved, / That you adjure us so?
10 My beloved is dazzling white yet ruddy, / Distinguished among ten thousand.
11 His head is the finest gold; / His locks are wavy, / As black as a raven.
12 His eyes are like doves / Beside the streams of water, / Bathed in milk, / Fitly set.
13 His cheeks are like a bed of spices, / Mounds of sweetly fragrant herbs; / His lips are lilies, / Dripping with liquid myrrh.
14 His hands are tubes of gold, / Set with beryl; / His belly is an ivory work, / Overlaid with sapphires.
15 His legs are pillars of white marble, / Set upon bases of gold; / His appearance is like Lebanon, / As excellent as the cedars.
16 His mouth is sweetness itself, / And he is altogether desirable. / This is my beloved, and this is my friend, / O daughters of Jerusalem.
6
1 Where has your beloved gone, / O you most beautiful among women? / Where has your beloved turned, / That we may seek him with you?
2 My beloved has gone down to his garden, / To the beds of spices, / To feed in the gardens / And gather lilies.
3 I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine; / He pastures his flock among the lilies.
4 You are as beautiful, my love, as Tirzah, / As lovely as Jerusalem, / As terrible as an army with banners.
5 Turn your eyes away from me, / For they overwhelm me. / Your hair is like a flock of goats / That repose on Mount Gilead.
6 Your teeth are like a flock of ewes / That have come up from the washing, / All of which have borne twins, / And none of them is bereaved of her young.
7 Your cheeks are like a piece of pomegranate / Behind your veil.
8 There are sixty queens and eighty concubines / And virgins without number.
9 My dove, my perfect one, is but one; / She is the only one of her mother; / She is the choice one of her who bore her. / The daughters saw her, and they called her blessed; / The queens and the concubines, / They also praised her.
10 Who is this woman who looks forth like the dawn, / As beautiful as the moon, / As clear as the sun, / As terrible as an army with banners?
11 I went down to the orchard of nuts / To see the freshness of the valley, / To see whether the vine had budded, / Whether the pomegranates were in bloom.
12 Before I was aware, / My soul set me among the chariots of my noble people.
13 Return, return, O Shulammite; / Return, return, that we may gaze at you. / Why should you gaze at the Shulammite, / As upon the dance of two camps?
7
1 How beautiful are your footsteps in sandals, / O prince’s daughter! / Your rounded thighs are like jewels, / The work of the hands of a skilled artist.
2 Your navel is a round goblet / That never lacks mixed wine; / Your belly is a heap of wheat, / Fenced in by lilies.
3 Your two breasts are like two fawns, / Twins of a gazelle.
4 Your neck is like a tower of ivory; / Your eyes, like the pools in Heshbon / By the gate of Bath-rabbim; / Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, / Which faces Damascus.
5 Your head upon you is like Carmel, / And the locks of your head like purple. / The king is fettered by your tresses.
6 How beautiful and how pleasant in delights / You are, O love!
7 This your stature is like a palm tree, / And your breasts are like the clusters.
8 I said, I will climb the palm tree; / I will take hold of its branches; / And let your breasts be like clusters of the vine, / And the fragrance of your nose like apples,
9 And the roof of your mouth like the best wine — Going down smoothly for my beloved, / Gliding through the lips of those who sleep.
10 I am my beloved’s, / And his desire is for me.
11 Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the fields; / Let us lodge in the villages.
12 Let us rise up early for the vineyards; / Let us see if the vine has budded, / If the blossom is open, / If the pomegranates are in bloom; / There I will give you my love.
13 The mandrakes give forth fragrance, / And over our doors are all choice fruits, / New as well as old. / These, my beloved, I have stored up for you.
8
1 Oh that you were like a brother to me, / Who nursed at my mother’s breasts! / If I found you outside, I would kiss you, / And none would despise me.
2 I would lead you and bring you / Into my mother’s house, / Who has instructed me; / I would make you drink spiced wine / From the juice of my pomegranate.
3 His left hand would be under my head, / And his right hand would embrace me.
4 I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, / Do not rouse up or awaken my love / Until she pleases.
5 Who is this who comes up from the wilderness, / Leaning on her beloved? / I awakened you under the apple tree: / There your mother was in labor with you; / There she was in labor and brought you forth.
6 Set me as a seal on your heart, / As a seal on your arm; / For love is as strong as death, / Jealousy is as cruel as Sheol; / Its flashes are the flashes of fire, / A flame of Jehovah.
7 Many waters cannot quench love, / Nor do floods drown it. / If a man gave all the substance of his house for love, / It would be utterly despised.
8 We have a little sister, / And she has no breasts: / What shall we do for our sister / On the day when she is spoken for?
9 If she is a wall, / We will build on her a battlement of silver; / And if she is a door, / We will enclose her with boards of cedar.
10 I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers; / Then I was in his eyes like one who has found peace.
11 Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon: / He let out the vineyard to keepers; / Each was to bring a thousand shekels of silver for its fruit.
12 My vineyard, which is mine, is before me. / You will have the thousand, O Solomon; / And those who keep its fruit, two hundred.
13 O you who dwell in the gardens, / My companions listen for your voice; / Let me hear it.
14 Make haste, my beloved, / And be like a gazelle or a young hart / Upon the mountains of spices.