Song of Songs

[Friends] Who is this, gazing out like morning, beautiful as the moon, shining like the sun, terrifying as the flagged armies? [He] I went down to the nut-garden, to see the plants of the stream; to see whether the vines were in flower, and if the pomegranate buds had burst. [She] I did not know myself - I found myself - amid the chariots of my princely people. [Friends] Turn, turn back, Shulamite girl; turn back, turn, let us see you. [He] Why do you gaze at the Shulamite girl as if she were a Mahanaim dancer? How lovely are your steps in sandals, prince’s daughter, the turn of your thighs like jewelry, work of the artist’s hands; your navel a circular bowl - may it never lack wine; your waist curved like baled wheat, bounded round with lilies. Your two breasts are like young twins of a she-gazelle; your neck an ivory tower, your eyes like pools in Heshbon, like pools by the Bat Rabbim Gate; your nose like the Tower of Lebanon gazing out to Damascus. Your head rises from you like the Carmel, its curls shine like purple silk - a king is tangled up in its tresses. How beautiful you are, how good; my love, in all its joys. Your bearing is like a date palm, your breasts its clustered fruits; but I said, “I shall climb the date palm, I shall take hold of its stems,” and your breasts will be like clustered grapes, your breath, the scent of apples. And your mouth is like good wine, inside - [She] It is for my beloved, flowing freely, bringing words to sleeping lips. I am my beloved’s; and his longing is for me. Come, my beloved, let us go to the field, let us lodge in the villages; we will get up early and go to the vineyards, to see if the vine has flowered, whether its blossoms have opened out, if the pomegranate buds have burst; and there shall I give you my love. The mandrakes give their scent, and on our own doorstep, the sweetest of fruits, new and old; my beloved, I have hoarded them for you. [She] If only you could have been my brother; could have suckled at my mother’s breast. I would find you outside, I would kiss you, yet no one would shame me. I would lead you, I would bring you to my mother’s house, you would teach me. I would give you to drink, spiced wine, my pomegranate juice. My head rests in his left hand, and his right arm is around me. Swear to me, daughters of Jerusalem, tell me, why do you seek to waken, why to rouse, this love before its time? [Friends] Who is this, rising from the desert, leaning on her beloved? [She] Beneath the apple tree I woke you; where your mother bore you, where in suffering she gave you birth. Set me like a seal upon your heart, like the seal upon your arm - for love is as powerful as death itself, and jealousy as unyielding as the grave; it burns with sparks of fire, with the LORD’s own flame.