Song of Songs
1
The Song of Songs, which is Solomon's.
The woman speaking to herself
Oh, that he would kiss me with the kisses of his mouth,
The woman speaking to the man
for your love is better than wine.
Your anointing oils have a delightful fragrance;
your name is like flowing perfume,
so the young women love you.
Take me with you, and we will run.
The woman speaking to herself
The king has brought me into his rooms.
The woman speaking to the man
We are glad; We rejoice about you;
let us celebrate your love; it is better than wine.
It is natural for the other women to adore you.
The woman speaking to the other women
I am dark but lovely,
you daughters of Jerusalem—
dark like the tents of Kedar,
lovely like the curtains of Solomon.
Do not stare at me because I am dark,
because the sun has scorched me.
My mother's sons were angry with me;
they made me keeper of the vineyards,
but my own vineyard I have not kept.
The woman speaking to the man
Tell me, you whom my soul loves,
where do you feed your flock?
Where do you rest your flock at noontime?
Why should I be like someone who wanders
beside the flocks of your companions?
The man speaking to the woman
If you do not know, most beautiful among women,
follow the tracks of my flock,
and pasture your young goats near the shepherds' tents.
I compare you, my love,
to a mare among Pharaoh's chariot horses.
10 Your cheeks are beautiful with ornaments,
your neck with strings of jewels.
11 We will make for you gold ornaments
with silver studs.
The woman speaking to herself
12 While the king lay on his couch,
my nard emitted its fragrance.
13 My beloved is to me like a bag of myrrh
that spends the night lying between my breasts.
14 My beloved is to me like a cluster of henna flowers
in the vineyards of En Gedi.
The man speaking to the woman
15 Listen, you are beautiful, my love;
listen, you are beautiful;
your eyes are doves.
The woman speaking to the man
16 Listen, you are handsome, my beloved, how handsome.
The lush plants are our bed.
17 The beams of our house are cedars;
our rafters are firs.