Song Of Solomon 8
Longing for Her Beloved
¹ O that you were to me like a brother who nursed at my mother’s breasts! If I found you outdoors, I would kiss you, and no one would despise me.
² I would lead you and bring you to the house of my mother who taught me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the nectar of my pomegranates.
³ His left hand is under my head, and his right arm embraces me.
⁴ O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you: Do not arouse or awaken love until the time is right.
The Friends
⁵ Who is this coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?
The Bride
I roused you under the apple tree; there your mother conceived you; there she travailed and brought you forth.
⁶ Set me as a seal over your heart, as a seal upon your arm. For love is as strong as death, its jealousy 1 as unrelenting as Sheol. Its sparks are fiery flames, the fiercest blaze of all.
⁷ Mighty waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot sweep it away. If a man were to give all the wealth of his house for love, his offer would be utterly scorned.
The Friends
⁸ We 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?
⁹ If she is a wall, we will build a tower of silver upon her. If she is a door, we will enclose her with panels of cedar.
The Bride
¹⁰ I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers. So I have become in his eyes like one who brings peace.
¹¹ Solomon had a vineyard in Baal-hamon. He leased it to the tenants. For its fruit, each was to bring a thousand shekels of silver.2
¹² But my own vineyard is mine to give; the thousand shekels are for you, O Solomon, and two hundred are for those who tend its fruit.
The Bridegroom
¹³ You who dwell in the gardens, my companions are listening for your voice. Let me hear it!
The Bride
¹⁴ Come away, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.