Song of Solomon 8

¹If only you were to me like a brother, who was nursed at my mother’s breasts! Then, if I found you outside, I would kiss you, and no one would despise me.

²I would lead you and bring you to my mother’s house— she who has taught me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the nectar of my pomegranates.

³His left arm is under my head and his right arm embraces me.

⁴Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you: Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.

⁵Who is this coming up from the wilderness leaning on her beloved? Under the apple tree I roused you; there your mother conceived you, there she who was in labor gave you birth.

⁶Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.

⁷Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot sweep it away. If one were to give all the wealth of one’s house for love, it would be utterly scorned.

⁸We have a little sister, and her breasts are not yet grown. What shall we do for our sister on the day she is spoken for?

⁹If she is a wall, we will build towers of silver on her. If she is a door, we will enclose her with panels of cedar.

¹⁰I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers. Thus I have become in his eyes like one bringing contentment.

¹¹Solomon had a vineyard in Baal Hamon; he let out his vineyard to tenants. Each was to bring for its fruit a thousand shekels of silver.

¹²But my own vineyard is mine to give; the thousand shekels are for you, Solomon, and two hundred are for those who tend its fruit.

¹³You who dwell in the gardens with friends in attendance, let me hear your voice!

¹⁴Come away, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or like a young stag on the spice-laden mountains.