The Song of Songs

Chapter 1
1 The song of songs, which is Solomonic:
2 Let him kiss me with kisses of his mouth. Truly your affections are better than wine;
3 As for scent, your attars are well pleasing; Your name is like attar as it is being emptied out; Therefore, the damsels love you.
4 Draw me after you; let us run; The king would bring me to his chambers. Let us exult and rejoice with you; Let us commemorate your affections as better than wine. The upright love you.
5 Dusky am I, and comely, daughters of Jerusalem, Like the tents of Kedar, Like the sheets of Solomon.
6 Do not stare at me because I am dusky, Because the sun has glared upon me; My mother’s sons burned hot against me; They placed me custodian over the vineyards; Over my vineyard which was for myself, I had not the custody.
7 Do tell me, you whom my soul loves, Where do you graze your flock? Where do you recline them at noon? Why should I become like a muffled woman Beside the droves of your partners?
8 If you do not know for yourself, loveliest among women, Go forth for yourself at the heels of the flock, And graze your kids by the tabernacles of the shepherds.
9 To my mare among the chariots of Pharaoh I liken you, my dearest.
10 Your cheeks are comely with bead-rows, Your neck with threaded gems.
11 (We shall make bead-rows of gold for you, With specks of silver.)
12 While the king was in his surroundings, My nard gave forth its scent.
13 A sachet of myrrh is my darling to me, Lodged between my breasts.
14 A cluster of henna blossoms is my darling to me, In the vineyards of Engedi.
15 How lovely you are, my dearest! How lovely you are; your eyes are doves!
16 How lovely you are, my darling, indeed so pleasant! Indeed our divan is under flourishing trees,
17 The rafters of our grand house are cedars, And our gutters are firs.

Chapter 2
1 I am a narcissus of the Sharon, An anemone of the vales.
2 Like an anemone among the thistles, So is my dearest among the daughters.
3 Like an apricot tree among the trees of the wildwood, So is my darling among the sons; In his shadow I covet that I may sit, And his fruit is sweet to my palate.
4 He brings me to the house of wine, And his standard over me is love.
5 Support me with raisin-cakes; Reinvigorate me with apricots, For I am ailing with love.
6 His left hand is under my head, And his right arm embraces me.
7 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, By gazelles or by hinds of the field: Do not rouse, and do not rouse up love Until it delight.
8 Hark, my darling! Behold, this one comes, Leaping over the mountains, Bounding over the hills!
9 My darling is like a gazelle Or a fawn of the deer; Behold, this one stands behind our house wall, Peering through the windows, Gazing forth through the lattices.
10 My darling answered and said to me: Arise, you, my dearest! My lovely one, now go you forth!
11 For behold, the wintry weather has passed; The downpour has passed on and has itself gone.
12 The flowers are seen in the land; The season for pruning is attained, And the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
13 The fig tree flavors its green figs, And the vines, in bloom, give scent. Arise, you, my dearest! My lovely one, now go you forth!
14 My dove, in the clefts of the crag, In the concealment of the cliff, Let me see your appearance; Let me hear your voice; For your voice is congenial, And your appearance is comely.
15 Get hold of the foxes for us, The small foxes that harm the vineyards, For our vineyards are in bloom.
16 My darling is mine, and I am his; He is grazing among the anemones.
17 While the day blows gently, And the shadows flee, Turn around, my darling, be you like a gazelle Or a fawn of the deer on the sundered mountains.

Chapter 3
1 On my bed in the nights I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, yet I did not find him.
2 Let me rise now, and let me go around in the city, Through the roadways and through the squares; Let me seek him whom my soul loves. I sought him, yet I did not find him.
3 The guards who go around in the city found me. He whom my soul loves, have you seen him?
4 Barely had I passed by them When I found him whom my soul loves; I held him and would not slacken my grip on him, Until I brought him to my mother’s house, To the chamber of her who was pregnant with me.
5 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, By gazelles or by hinds of the field: Do not rouse, and do not rouse up love Until it delight.
6 Who is this ascending from the wilderness Like pillars of smoke, From fumes of myrrh and frankincense, From all the powder of the trader?
7 Behold, his couch, that which is Solomon’s! Sixty masterful men surround it, From the masterful men of Israel,
8 All of them holding a sword, taught in warfare, Each with his sword on his thigh, Because of alarm at night.
9 King Solomon made the sedan-litter for himself From wood of Lebanon.
10 Its columns he made of silver, Its bolster of gold, Its riding seat of purple, Its interior inlaid with love By the daughters of Jerusalem.
11 Come forth, daughters of Zion, and see king Solomon, With the crown with which his mother crowned him On the day of his wedding, And on the day of the rejoicing of his heart.

Chapter 4
1 How lovely you are, my dearest! How lovely you are! Your eyes are doves behind your face veil; Your hair is like a drove of goats that streams down from Mount Gilead;
2 Your teeth are like a fashioned drove that ascends from the washing; All of them have their twins, And there are none among them bereaved.
3 Your lips are like thread of scarlet, And your mouth is comely; Like a slice of pomegranate are your temples behind your face veil.
4 Your neck is like the tower of David, built for an armory; A thousand shields are hung on it, all cuirasses of the masterful.
5 Your two breasts are like two fawns, Twins of a gazelle that graze among the anemones.
6 While the day blows gently, And the shadows flee, I shall betake me to the mountain of myrrh And to the hill of frankincense.
7 All of you is lovely, my dearest, And there is no blemish in you.
8 With me from Lebanon, O bride, Come with me from Lebanon; Regard the scene from the summit of Amana, From the summit of Shenir and Hermon, From the habitations of lions, From the mountain ranges of leopards.
9 You stir my heart, my sister, O bride, you stir my heart With one glance from your eyes, With one coil of your necklace.
10 How lovely are your affections, my sister, bride, How much better are your affections than wine, And the scent of your attars than all aromatics!
11 Your lips drip with honeycomb, O bride; Honey and milk are under your tongue, And the scent of your raiment is like the scent of Lebanon.
12 You are a garden latched, my sister, bride, A garden latched, a spring sealed.
13 Your runners form a park of pomegranates, With finest fruit, Henna blossoms with nards,
14 Nard and saffron, reed and cinnamon, With all the woods of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, With all the topmost aromatics.
15 You are a spring for gardens, A well of living waters, Even those flowing from Lebanon.
16 Rouse, north wind, and come, south wind; Blow on my garden that its aromatics may flow; Let my darling come to his garden That he may eat its fine fruit.

Chapter 5
1 I come to my garden, my sister, bride; I nip off my myrrh with my aromatics; I eat my wildwood fare with my honey; I drink my wine with my milk. Eat, associates! Drink and drink freely, friends!
2 I was asleep, yet my heart was aroused; Hark, my darling knocking! Open to me, my sister, my dearest, My dove, my flawless one, For my head is covered with night mist, My locks with moisture of the night.
3 I have stripped off my tunic; how should I put it on again? I have washed my feet; how should I dirty them again?
4 My darling put forth his hand into the latch hole, And my bowels clamored for him.
5 I arose to open for my darling; My hands dripped with myrrh, And my fingers with overflowing myrrh On the handgrips of the latch.
6 I opened for my darling, Yet my darling had vanished; he had passed aside. My soul had gone forth when he spoke; I sought him, yet I did not find him; I called him, yet he did not answer me.
7 The guards who go around in the city found me; They smote me; they injured me; They lifted my cape off me, those guards of the walls.
8 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, If you find my darling, what shall you tell him? That I am ailing with love!
9 How is your darling better than another darling, Loveliest among women? How is your darling better than another darling That thus you adjure us?
10 My darling is shimmering and ruddy, Preeminent among ten thousand.
11 His head is certified gold, glittering gold; His locks are pendulous, dusky as a raven.
12 His eyes are like doves by channels of water, Washed in milk, seated by a brimming pool.
13 His cheeks are like beds of aromatics, towers of sweet compounds; His lips are like anemones, dripping with overflowing myrrh.
14 His hands are like ring-bands of gold, filled with topaz; His belly is like reflecting ivory, bedecked with sapphires.
15 His legs are like columns of marble, founded on sockets of glittering gold; His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.
16 The words of his palate are most sweet, And all of him is coveted. This is my darling, and this is my dearest, daughters of Jerusalem.

Chapter 6
1 Whither has your darling gone, loveliest among women? Whither has your darling faced? Let us seek him with you.
2 My darling has descended to his garden, To the beds of aromatics, To graze in the gardens And to glean anemones.
3 I am my darling’s, and my darling is mine; He is grazing among the anemones.
4 You are lovely, my dearest, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Majestic as standard bearers.
5 Turn your eyes about from in front of me, For they beset me. Your hair is like a drove of goats that streams down from Gilead;
6 Your teeth are like a drove of ewes that ascends from the washing; All of them have their twins, And there are none among them bereaved;
7 Like a slice of pomegranate are your temples behind your face veil.
8 Sixty queens, they may be, and eighty concubines, And damsels may be without number,
9 But only one is she, my dove, my flawless one, The only one is she of her mother, The pure one is she of the one who bore her. Daughters see her and call her happy; Queens and concubines, let them praise her.
10 Who is this who gazes forth like the dawn, Lovely as the moonbeam, Pure as the sunshine, Majestic as standard bearers?
11 I descended to the walnut garden To see the pollination about the watercourse, To see whether the vine had budded And the pomegranates had flowered.
12 Before I knew it, My soul set me among the chariots of my princely kinsmen.
13 Return, return, Shulammite; Return, return, that we may perceive you. What do you perceive in the Shulammite? Something like the Mahanaim chorus?

Chapter 7
1 How lovely are your sandaled footsteps, princely daughter; The curvings of your thighs are like eardrops, The work of true craftsman hands.
2 Your navel is like a goblet, well-rounded, which never lacks liquor; Your belly is like a grain-pile of wheat, fenced about by anemones.
3 Your two breasts are like two fawns, Twins of a gazelle;
4 Your neck is like a tower of ivory; Your eyes are like reservoirs in Heshbon by the gate of Bath-rabbim; Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, watching the face of Damascus.
5 Your head upon you is like Carmel, And the tresses of your head are like purple: A king is bound by the strands.
6 How lovely you are, and how pleasant you are, O love, among rich delights.
7 This is your stature: It is like the palm tree, And your breasts like clusters.
8 I said, Let me ascend into the palm tree; Let me take hold of its topmost branches. Oh that your breasts may become like the clusters of the vine, And the scent of your nose like apricots,
9 And your palate like the best wine. May it go to my darling, As evenly gliding over lips and teeth.
10 I am my darling’s, And his impulse is toward me.
11 Do come, my darling, let us go forth to the field; Let us lodge among the henna bushes;
12 Let us go early to the vineyards; Let us see if the vine has budded, The bloom has opened, And the pomegranates have flowered; There I shall give my affections to you.
13 The mandrakes give forth their scent, And at our portals are all fine fruits, Both new and stored, That I have secluded for you, my darling.

Chapter 8
1 O that you were like a brother to me, Who suckled at the breasts of my mother! Then if I found you outdoors I would kiss you, And no one would despise me.
2 I would lead you and bring you to my mother’s house, Who has taught me; I would give you to drink of spiced wine, Of my pomegranate new wine.
3 His left hand is under my head, And his right arm embraces me.
4 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, Why do you rouse, and why do you rouse up love, When it already delights?
5 Who is this ascending from the wilderness, Intimately leaning on her darling? Under the apricot tree I roused you; There your mother was cramped with you; There she was cramped, who bore you.
6 Place me like a seal upon your heart, Like a seal upon your arm, For love is strong as death, Its jealousy hard as the unseen, Its burning coals as burning coals of fire, The blaze of Yah.
7 Many waters cannot quench love, Nor can streams overwhelm it. If a man should give all the wealth of his house for love, People would despise, yea despise him.
8 We have a young sister, And her breasts are not yet grown. What shall we do for our sister On the day when she is spoken for?
9 If she is a wall, We shall build a battlement of silver upon it, And if she is a door, We shall buttress it with planks of cedar.
10 I am a wall, And my breasts are like towers; I have, then, become in his eyes Like one providing peace.
11 For Solomon, there was a vineyard in Baal-hamon; He gave out the vineyard to custodians; A man would bring for its fruit a thousand silver pieces.
12 I have my own vineyard before me; The thousand are for you, Solomon, And two hundred for the custodians of its fruit.
13 You who are dwelling in the gardens, The partners are attending to your voice; Let me hear it.
14 Hasten away, my darling, And be you like a gazelle Or a fawn of the deer On the mountains of aromatics!