Song of Solomon 8

¹Oh that you were like my brother, who nursed from the breasts of my mother! If I found you outside, I would kiss you; yes, and no one would despise me.

²I would lead you, bringing you into the house of my mother, who would instruct me. I would have you drink spiced wine, of the juice of my pomegranate.

³His left hand would be under my head. His right hand would embrace me.

⁴I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, that you not stir up, nor awaken love, until it so desires.

⁵Who is this who comes up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved? Beloved Under the apple tree I awakened you. There your mother conceived you. There she was in labor and bore you.

⁶Set me as a seal on your heart, as a seal on your arm; for love is strong as death. Jealousy is as cruel as Sheol. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a very flame of Yah.

⁷Many waters can’t quench love, neither can floods drown it. If a man would give all the wealth of his house for love, he would be utterly scorned.

⁸We have a little sister. She has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister in the day when she is to be spoken for?

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

¹⁰I am a wall, and my breasts like towers, then I was in his eyes like one who found peace.

¹¹Solomon had a vineyard at Baal Hamon. He leased out the vineyard to keepers. Each was to bring a thousand shekels of silver for its fruit.

¹²My own vineyard is before me. The thousand are for you, Solomon, two hundred 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! Be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices!