The Song of Solomon 8

¹Oh 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.

²I would lead you and bring you
into the house of my mother—
she who used to teach me.
I would give you spiced wine to drink,
the juice of my pomegranate.

³ His left hand is under my head,
and his right hand embraces me!

⁴I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
that you not stir up or awaken love
until it pleases.

⁵ Who is that coming up from the wilderness,
leaning on her beloved?
Under the apple tree I awakened you.
There your mother was in labor with you;
there she who bore you was in labor.

⁶Set me as a seal upon your heart,
as a seal upon your arm,
for love is strong as death,
jealousy is fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
the very flame of the Lord.

⁷Many waters cannot quench love,
neither can floods drown it.
If a man offered for love
all the wealth of his house,
he would be utterly despised.

Others
⁸We have a little sister,
and she has no breasts.
What shall we do for our sister
on the day when she is spoken for?

⁹If she is a wall,
we will build on her a battlement of silver,
but if she is a door,
we will enclose her with boards of cedar.

She
¹⁰ I was a wall,
and my breasts were like towers;
then I was in his eyes
as one who finds peace.

¹¹Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon;
he let out the vineyard to keepers;
each one was to bring for its fruit a thousand pieces of silver.

¹²My vineyard, my very own, is before me;
you, O Solomon, may have the thousand,
and the keepers of the fruit two hundred.

He
¹³ O you who dwell in the gardens,
with companions listening for your voice;
let me hear it.

She
¹⁴ Make haste, my beloved,
and be like a gazelle
or a young stag
on the mountains of spices.

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