14
My dove, in the clefts of the rock,
in the crevices of the cliff,
let me see your face,
let me hear your voice;
for your voice is sweet,
and your face is lovely.
(W)
15
Catch the foxes for us —
the little foxes that ruin the vineyards —
for our vineyards are in bloom.
W
16
My love is mine and I am his;
he feeds among the lilies.
17
Before the day breaks
and the shadows flee,
turn to me, my love, and be like a gazelle
or a young stag on the divided mountains.
Song of Songs
3
In my bed at night
I sought the one I love;
I sought him, but did not find him.
2
I will arise now and go about the city,
through the streets and the plazas.
I will seek the one I love.
I sought him, but did not find him.
3
The guards who go about the city found me.
I asked them, “Have you seen the one I love? ”
4
I had just passed them
when I found the one I love.
I held on to him and would not let him go
until I brought him to my mother's house —
to the chamber of the one who conceived me.
5
Young women of Jerusalem, I charge you
by the gazelles and the wild does of the field:
do not stir up or awaken love
until the appropriate time.
N
6
What is this coming up from the wilderness
like columns of smoke,
scented with myrrh and frankincense
from every fragrant powder of the merchant?
7
It is Solomon's royal litter
surrounded by 60 warriors
from the mighty of Israel.
8
All of them are skilled with swords
and trained in warfare.
Each has his sword at his side
to guard against the terror of the night.
9
King Solomon made a sedan chair for himself
with wood from Lebanon.
10
He made its posts of silver,
its back of gold,
and its seat of purple.
Its interior is inlaid with love
by the young women of Jerusalem.
11
Come out, young women of
•Zion
,
and gaze at King Solomon,
wearing the crown his mother placed on him
the day of his wedding —
the day of his heart's rejoicing.
Song of Songs
4
M
How beautiful you are, my darling.
How very beautiful!
Behind your veil,
your eyes are doves.
Your hair is like a flock of goats
streaming down Mount Gilead.
2
Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn sheep
coming up from washing,
each one having a twin,
and not one missing.
3
Your lips are like a scarlet cord,
and your mouth is lovely.
Behind your veil,
your brow is like a slice of pomegranate.
4
Your neck is like the tower of David,
constructed in layers.
A thousand bucklers are hung on it —
all of them shields of warriors.
5
Your breasts are like two fawns,
twins of a gazelle, that feed among the lilies.
6
Before the day breaks
and the shadows flee,
I will make my way to the mountain of myrrh
and the hill of frankincense.
7
You are absolutely beautiful, my darling,
with no imperfection in you.
8
Come with me from Lebanon, my bride —
with me from Lebanon!
Descend from the peak of Amana,
from the summit of Senir and Hermon,
from the dens of the lions,
from the mountains of the leopards.
9
You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride.
You have captured my heart with one glance of your eyes,
with one jewel of your necklace.
10
How delightful your love is, my sister, my bride.
Your love is much better than wine,
and the fragrance of your perfume than any balsam.
11
Your lips drip sweetness like the honeycomb, my bride.
Honey and milk are under your tongue.
The fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
12
My sister, my bride, you are a locked garden —
a locked garden and a sealed spring.
13
Your branches are a paradise of pomegranates
with choicest fruits,
henna with nard —
14
nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon,
with all the trees of frankincense,
myrrh and aloes,
with all the best spices.
15
You are a garden spring,
a well of flowing water
streaming from Lebanon.
W
16
Awaken, north wind —
come, south wind.
Blow on my garden,
and spread the fragrance of its spices.
Let my love come to his garden
and eat its choicest fruits.
Song of Songs
5
M
I have come to my garden — my sister, my bride.
I gather my myrrh with my spices.
I eat my honeycomb with my honey.
I drink my wine with my milk.
N
Eat, friends!
Drink, be intoxicated with love!
W
2
I sleep, but my heart is awake.
A sound! My love is knocking!
M
Open to me, my sister, my darling,
my dove, my perfect one.
For my head is drenched with dew,
my hair with droplets of the night.
W
3
I have taken off my clothing.
How can I put it back on?
I have washed my feet.
How can I get them dirty?
4
My love thrust his hand through the opening,
and my feelings were stirred for him.
5
I rose to open for my love.
My hands dripped with myrrh,
my fingers with flowing myrrh
on the handles of the bolt.
6
I opened to my love,
but my love had turned and gone away.
I was crushed that he had left.
I sought him, but did not find him.
I called him, but he did not answer.
7
The guards who go about the city found me.
They beat and wounded me;
they took my cloak from me —
the guardians of the walls.
8
Young women of Jerusalem, I charge you:
if you find my love,
tell him that I am lovesick.
Y
9
What makes the one you love better than another,
most beautiful of women?
What makes him better than another,
that you would give us this charge?
W
10
My love is fit and strong,
notable among ten thousand.
11
His head is purest gold.
His hair is wavy
and black as a raven.
12
His eyes are like doves
beside streams of water,
washed in milk
and set like jewels.
13
His cheeks are like beds of spice,
towers of perfume.
His lips are lilies,
dripping with flowing myrrh.
14
His arms are rods of gold
set with topaz.
His body is an ivory panel
covered with sapphires.
15
His legs are alabaster pillars
set on pedestals of pure gold.
His presence is like Lebanon,
as majestic as the cedars.
16
His mouth is sweetness.
He is absolutely desirable.
This is my love, and this is my friend,
young women of Jerusalem.
Song of Songs
6
Y
Where has your love gone,
most beautiful of women?
Which way has he turned?
We will seek him with you.
W
2
My love has gone down to his garden,
to beds of spice,
to feed in the gardens
and gather lilies.
3
I am my love's and my love is mine;
he feeds among the lilies.
M
4
You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my darling,
lovely as Jerusalem,
awe-inspiring as an army with banners.
5
Turn your eyes away from me,
for they captivate me.
Your hair is like a flock of goats
streaming down from Gilead.
6
Your teeth are like a flock of ewes
coming up from washing,
each one having a twin,
and not one missing.
7
Behind your veil,
your brow is like a slice of pomegranate.
8
There are 60 queens
and 80 concubines
and young women without number.
9
But my dove, my virtuous one, is unique;
she is the favorite of her mother,
perfect to the one who gave her birth.
Women see her and declare her fortunate;
queens and concubines also, and they sing her praises: