1 Song of Songs, which is of Solomon.
2 Oh, that he would kiss me with kisses from his mouth! Because your loves are better than wine.
3 In addition to the smell of your sweet ointments, Your name is like poured ointment; That’s why the maidens love you.
4 Draw me; We will run after you. The king has put me in his chambers; We will rejoice and be glad in you; We will remember your loves more than the wine; No wonder they love you.
5 I am dark, O daughters of Jerusalem, but desirable Like the tents of Cedar, Like the curtains of Solomon.
6 Do not notice that I am dark, Because the sun looked at me. My mother’s sons were angry with me; They put me to guard the vineyards; And my vineyard, which was mine, I did not keep.
7 Let me know, oh you whom my soul loves, Where you feed, where you rest at noon; For why should I be a wanderer among the flocks of your companions?
8 If you do not know, O fair one among women, Go, follow in the footsteps of the flock, And feed your goats by the shepherds’ huts.
9 I have compared you to the mare of Pharaoh’s chariots, my friend.
10 Beautiful are your cheeks among the earrings, Your neck among the necklaces.
11 We will make you earrings of gold, Studded with silver.
12 While the king was at his kneeler, My nard smelled of him.
13 My beloved is to me a little bundle of myrrh, Who rests between my breasts.
14 Cluster of henna flowers in the vineyards of En-gedi He is my beloved.
15 Behold, you are beautiful, my friend; Behold you are beautiful; Your eyes are like doves.
16 Behold, you are beautiful, my beloved, and sweet; Our bed is made of flowers.
17 The beams of our house are of cedar, and the paneling of cypress.
1 I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valley.
2 Like the lily among the thorns, So is my friend among the maidens.
3 Like the apple tree among the wild trees, So is my beloved among the young; Under the shadow of the desired one I sat, And the fruit of it was sweet to my taste.
4 He brought me to the banquet house, And his banner over me was love.
5 Sustain me with raisins, comfort me with apples; Because I’m sick of love.
6 Let his left hand be under my head, and his right hand embrace me.
7 I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem, By the roe deer and by the hinds of the field, That you do not awaken nor make love awake, Until it pleases.
8 The voice of my beloved! Behold he comes Leaping over the mountains, Leaping over the hills.
9 My beloved is like a roe deer, or a fawn. Lo and behold, he is behind our wall, Looking through the windows, Peeking through the lattices.
10 My beloved spoke, and said to me: Arise, O my friend, my fair one, and come.
11 For behold, the winter is past, It is changed, the rain is gone;
12 The flowers have appeared on the earth, The time of song has come, And the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our country.
13 The fig tree has put forth its figs, and the budding vines have given off a scent; Arise, O my friend, my fair one, and come.
14 My dove, who are in the holes of the rock, in the hidden places of steep places, Show me your face, make me hear your voice; Because your voice is sweet, and your appearance is beautiful.
15 Catch us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vineyards; Because our vines are in bloom.
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his; He feeds among lilies.
17 Until the day dawns, and the shadows flee, Return, my beloved; be like the roe deer, or like the fawn On the mountains of Bether.
1 At night I searched in my bed for him whom my soul loves; I looked for it and I did not find it.
2 And I said, I will arise now, and go around the city; Through the streets and through the squares I will look for the one my soul loves; I looked for it and I did not find it.
3 The guards who patrol the city found me, and I said to them, Have you seen him whom my soul loves?
4 As soon as I had passed from them a little, I immediately found him whom my soul loves; I did so, and I did not leave him, Until I brought him into my mother’s house, And into the chamber from which she gave birth to me.
5 I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem, By the roe deer and by the hinds of the field, That you do not awaken nor make love awake, Until it pleases. The wedding party
6 Who is this that rises from the desert like a column of smoke, scented with myrrh and frankincense and all aromatic dust?
7 Behold, is Solomon’s litter; Sixty mighty men surround it, Of the strong men of Israel.
8 They all have swords, skilled in war; Each one his sword on his thigh, For the fears of the night.
9 King Solomon made himself a chariot Of wood from Lebanon.
10 He made its pillars of silver, its backrest of gold, its seat of scarlet, its interior embroidered with love for the maidens of Jerusalem.
11 Come out, O maidens of Zion, and see King Solomon With the crown with which his mother crowned him on the day of her espousal, And the day of her heart’s joy.
1 Behold, you are beautiful, my friend; behold, you are beautiful; Your eyes between your locks like a dove; Your hair is like a flock of goats that lie down on the slopes of Gilead.
2 Your teeth are like flocks of shorn sheep, Coming up from the wash, All with twin offspring, And none of them barren.
3 Your lips are like scarlet thread, And your speech is beautiful; Your cheeks, like pomegranate chunks behind your veil.
4 Your neck, like the tower of David, built for an armory; A thousand shields are hung on it, All shields of brave men.
5 Your two breasts, like twins of gazelles, that feed among lilies.
6 Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, And to the hill of incense.
7 You are all beautiful, my friend, and there is no stain in you.
8 Come with me from Lebanon, O my wife; Come with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, From the top of Senir and Hermon, From the dens of lions, From the mountains of leopards.
9 You captured my heart, sister, my wife; You have captured my heart with one of your eyes, With a choker from your neck.
10 How beautiful are your loves, sister, my wife! How much better than wine are your loves, and the smell of your ointments than all the aromatic spices!
11 Your lips drip like a honeycomb, O wife; Honey and milk are under your tongue; And the smell of your clothes like the smell of Lebanon.
12 You are a closed garden, my sister, my wife; Closed source, sealed source.
13 Your shoots are a paradise of pomegranates, with soft fruits, Of henna flowers and tuberoses;
14 Spikenard and saffron, sweet reed and cinnamon, With all the incense trees; Myrrh and aloes, with all the main aromatic spices.
15 Fountain of gardens, Well of living waters, Flowing from Lebanon.
16 Arise, Aquilon, and come, Austro; Blow into my garden, let its aromas be released. Come my beloved to your garden, And eat of your sweet fruit.
1 I came to my garden, O sister, my wife; I have collected my myrrh and my aromas; I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey, I have drunk my wine and my milk. Eat, friends; drink abundantly, oh beloved. The torment of separation
2 I slept, but my heart was awake. It is the voice of my beloved that calls: Open to me, my sister, my friend, my dove, my perfect one, Because my head is full of dew, My hair is full of the drops of the night.
3 I have stripped off my clothes; How should I dress? I have washed my feet; How should I get them dirty?
4 My beloved put his hand through the window, And my heart was moved within me.
5 I rose to open it to my beloved, And my hands dripped myrrh, And my fingers myrrh, which ran On the handle of the bolt.
6 I opened to my beloved; But my beloved was gone, had already passed; And after talking about her my soul came out. I looked for it and I did not find it; I called him, and he didn’t answer me.
7 The guards who patrol the city found me; They hit me, they hurt me; The guards on the walls took my cloak from me.
8 I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, Let him know that I am sick with love. The wife praises the husband
9 What is your beloved more than another beloved, O most beautiful of all women? What is your beloved more than another beloved, That thus you conjure us?
10 My beloved is white and fair, Marked among ten thousand.
11 His head is like the finest gold; His hair was curly, black as a raven.
12 His eyes are like doves by the streams of water, Washed with milk, and set to perfection.
13 His cheeks are like a threshing floor of sweet spices, like fragrant flowers; His lips are like lilies dripping with fragrant myrrh.
14 His hands are like rings of gold set with hyacinths; Her body, like clear ivory covered with sapphires.
15 His legs are like pillars of marble founded on bases of fine gold; His appearance is like Lebanon, chosen like cedars.
16 His palate is very sweet, and everything is desirable. Such is my beloved, such is my friend, O maidens of Jerusalem.
1 Where has your beloved gone, oh most beautiful of all women? Where has your beloved gone, And will we seek him with you?
2 My beloved went down to her garden, to the spice beds, To feed in the gardens, and to gather the lilies.
3 I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine; He feeds among the lilies.
4 You are beautiful, my friend, like Tirzah; To be desired, like Jerusalem; Imposing as armies in order.
5 Remove your eyes from before me, For they have overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats That lie down on the slopes of Gilead.
6 Your teeth are like flocks of sheep coming up from the wash, All with twin offspring, And there is none barren among them.
7 Your cheeks are like pomegranate chunks behind your veil.
8 Sixty are the queens, and eighty are the concubines, And the maidens without number;
9 But one is my dove, my perfect one; She is the only one of her mother, The chosen one of the one who gave birth to her. The maidens saw her, and called her blessed; Queens and concubines, and they praised her.
10 Who is this that appears like the dawn, Beautiful like the moon, Bright like the sun, Imposing like armies in order?
11 I went down to the walnut garden to see the fruits of the valley, and to see if the vines sprouted, if the pomegranates flourished.
12 Before I knew it, my soul put me Among the chariots of Aminadab.
13 Return, return, O Shulamite; Turn, turn, and we will look at you. What will you see in the Shulamite? Something like the meeting of two camps.
1 How beautiful are your feet in sandals, O daughter of a prince! The contours of your thighs are like jewels, the work of an excellent master.
2 Your navel like a round cup That does not lack drink. Your belly is like a heap of wheat, surrounded by lilies.
3 Your two breasts, like twins of a gazelle.
4 Your neck is like an ivory tower; Your eyes are like the pools of Heshbon by the gate of Bat-rabim; Your nose, like the tower of Lebanon, That looks towards Damascus.
5 Your head is above you, like Carmel; And the hair of your head, like the king’s purple Suspended in the corridors.
6 How beautiful you are, and how soft, O delightful love!
7 Your stature is like a palm tree, and your breasts are like clusters.
8 I said, I will climb the palm tree, I will take hold of its branches. Let your breasts be like clusters of vine, And the smell of your mouth like apples,
9 And your palate like good wine, Which enters my beloved gently, And makes the lips of the old speak.
10 I am my beloved’s, and he is well pleased with me.
11 Come, oh my beloved, let us go out into the countryside, Let us dwell in the villages.
12 Let us get up early to the vineyards; Let’s see if the vines sprout, if they are budding, if the pomegranates have blossomed; There I will give you my loves.
13 The mandrakes have given off a scent, And at our doors are all kinds of sweet fruits, New and old, which I have kept for you, O my beloved.
1 Oh, that you were like my brother Who sucked my mother’s breasts! Then, finding you outside, she would kiss you, And they would not despise me.
2 I would take you, I would put you in my mother’s house; You would teach me, And I would make you drink marinated wine from the juice of my pomegranates.
3 Let her left hand be under my head, and her right hand embrace me.
4 I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem, that you do not awaken or make love awake, Until it pleases. The power of love
5 Who is this who comes up from the desert, leaning on her beloved? Under an apple tree I woke you up; There your mother was in pain, There she was in pain who gave birth to you.
6 Put me as a seal on your heart, as a mark on your arm; Because love is strong like death; Jealousy is hard as Sheol; The embers of it, embers of fire, strong flame.
7 Many waters will not be able to quench love, Nor will rivers drown it. If a man gave all the goods of his house for this love, they would certainly despise him.
8 We have a little sister, Who has no breasts; What will we do to our sister when people talk about her?
9 If it is a wall, We will build on it a silver palace; If it is a door, we will garnish it with cedar boards.
10 I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers, Since I was in her eyes as one where she finds peace.
11 Solomon had a vineyard in Baalhamon, which he gave to stewards, each of whom was to bring a thousand pieces of silver for its fruit.
12 My vineyard, which is mine, is before me; A thousand will be yours, O Solomon, And two hundred for those who keep their fruit.
13 O you who dwell in the gardens, The companions hear your voice; Let me hear it.
14 Make haste, my beloved, And be like a roe deer, or a fawn, Upon the mountains of aromas.
