I'm a flower from Sharon, a lily of the valleys.

Let him kiss me over and over again! Your love is better than wine.

Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the young men. In his shade I take delight and sit down, and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

He has brought me to the banquet hall, and his banner over me is love.

The fragrance of your perfumed oil is wonderful. Your name is perfume poured out. Therefore the young women love you.

Look! Winter is past. The rain is over and gone.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle grazing among the lilies.

Sustain me with raisin cakes, refresh me with apples, for I'm weak with love.

Take me with you! Let's run away! Let the king bring me into his private chambers. The daughters of Jerusalem will rejoice and be happy for you. We will value your love more than wine. They love you appropriately.

I opened the door for my beloved, but my beloved had turned away; he was gone! My very life went out when he departed. I searched for him, but couldn't find him. I called out to him, but he didn't answer.

The daughters of Jerusalem, I'm dark and lovely like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon.

If you don't know, most beautiful of women, go out after the flock and graze your young goats beside the shepherd's tents.

Blossoms have appeared in the land. The season of songbirds has arrived, and cooing of turtledoves is heard in our land.

Don't stare at me because I'm dark; the sun has tanned me. My mother's sons were angry with me. They made me the caretaker of the vineyards, but I didn't take care of my own vineyard.

I wish that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand were embracing me!

The voice of my beloved! Look! He's coming, leaping over the mountains, bounding over the hills.

I had just passed them when I found the one I love. I held him and wouldn't let him go until I brought him to my mother's house, to the room of the one who conceived me.

If she's a wall, on her we will build a battlement of silver. If she's a door, we will enclose her with planks of cedar.

Like a lily among thorns, so is my darling among the young women.

Your temple behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.

Tell me, you whom I love, where do you graze your flock? Where do you make your flock lie down at noon? Why should I be considered a veiled woman beside the flocks of your companions?

I told myself, "I'll go up the palm tree, and take hold of its fruit. May your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the smell of your breath like apples.

Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that destroy the vineyards, our vineyards that are in bloom."

We will make ornaments of gold for you, accented with silver.

My darling, I compare you to a mare among Pharaoh's chariots.

My beloved belongs to me and I belong to him. He is the one who shepherds his flock among the lilies.

Your cheeks are lovely with ornaments, your neck with strings of jewels.

While the king was sitting at his table, my perfume sent forth its fragrance.

The fig tree has produced its fruit, the grapevines have blossomed and exude their fragrance. "Get up, my darling, my beautiful one, and come on.

The beams of our house are cedar, our rafters are pine.

My beloved is to me a pouch of myrrh that lies between my breasts all night.

My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms in the vineyards of En-gedi.

My beloved spoke to me: "Get up, my darling, my beautiful one, and come on.

My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look, there he stands behind our wall, looking through the windows, gazing through the lattice.

I was a wall and my breasts were like towers. Then I became like one who finds peace in his eyes.

Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, I'll go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.

I charge you, young women of Jerusalem, "If you find my beloved, what are you to tell him? Tell him that I'm weak with love."

The watchmen making their rounds through the city found me. They beat me, they bruised me. Those guarding the walls took my cloak from me.

The Most Beautiful Song by Solomon.

There are sixty queens and eighty mistresses, and too many young women to count,

Swear to me, young women of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the does of the field, that you won't awaken or arouse love before its proper time!

Look at you! You are handsome, my beloved, truly lovely. How lush is our couch.

Look at you! You are beautiful, my darling. Look at you! You are so beautiful. Your eyes are doves.

Swear to me, young women of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the does of the field, that you won't awaken or arouse love before its proper time!

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon. May you journey from the top of Amana, from the tops of Senir and Hermon, from the dens of lions, from the mountain lairs of leopards.

May your mouth be like good wine. May it go down smoothly to my beloved, gliding gently over the lips of the sleeping ones.

Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, turn around, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the rugged mountains.

My beloved is dazzling, with a dark and healthy complexion, outstanding among ten thousand.

My vineyard belongs to me and is at my disposal. The 1,000 are for you, Solomon, and 200 are for those who take care of its fruit.

My dove, in the hidden places of the rocks, in the secret places of the cliffs, show me your form, and let me hear your voice. For your voice is pleasant, and your shape is lovely.

but my dove, my perfect one, is unique. She's unique to her mother, she's pure to the one who gave birth to her. Young women see her and call her blessed, queens and mistresses praise her.

Come quickly, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.

You who sit in the gardens, companions are listening for your voice, but let me hear it.

Let us go early to the vineyards, let us see whether the vine has budded, whether the blossom has opened, whether the pomegranates have bloomed. There I'll give you my love.

My darling, you are altogether beautiful and there is no blemish in you.

The mandrakes give off their fragrance, and over our doors are all the choice fruits, both old and new, that I've stored up for you, my beloved.

Return, return, Shulammite, return, return, so we may look at you! Why should you look at the Shulammite, like you watch the dance of the two camps?

Solomon has a vineyard in Baal-hamon. He entrusted the vineyard to caretakers each one is to bring 1,000 pieces of silver in exchange for its fruit.

I've come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I've gathered my myrrh with my spices. I've eaten my honeycomb with my honey. I've drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, friends! Drink and become drunk with love.

Set me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm. For love is as strong as death, passion as intense as Sheol. The flames of love are flames of fire, a blaze that comes from the LORD.

What is so special about your beloved, most beautiful of women? What is so special about your beloved, that you charge us like this?

What is this coming up from the desert like columns of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and incense from all the fragrant powders of the merchant?

His mouth is sweetness, and all of him is desirable. This is my beloved, this is my friend, young women of Jerusalem!

You have made my heart beat faster, my sister, my bride. You have made my heart beat faster with one glance of your eyes, with one strand of your necklace.

I belong to my beloved, and his desire is for me.

Come, my beloved. Let us go out to the country, let us spend the night in the villages.

How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride. How much better is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than all kinds of spices.

Who is this who appears like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, awesome as an army with banners?

I was asleep, but my heart was awake. There's a sound! My beloved is knocking. "Open up for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one. For my head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

Look at you! You are beautiful, my darling. Look at you! You are so beautiful. Your eyes behind your veil are doves, your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Mt. Gilead.

Look! It's Solomon's sedan chair, with 60 of the best soldiers in Israel surrounding it.

His head is pure gold, his hair is wavy, black like a raven.

My sister, my bride, is a locked garden a locked rock garden, a sealed up spring.

nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense, along with myrrh and aloes, and all the finest spices.

Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with choice fruit, henna with nard,

Mighty bodies of water cannot extinguish love, rivers cannot put it out. If a man were to give all the wealth of his house for love, he would surely be viewed with contempt.

All of them are wearing swords and are experienced in battle. Each has his sword on his thigh, ready for the terror of the night.

I went down to the walnut orchard, to look at the green sprouts in the valley, to see whether the vine had budded, whether the pomegranates had blossomed.

His hands are rods of gold, set with beryl. His stomach is carved ivory, inlaid with sapphires.

Night after night on my bed, I sought the one I love; I sought him, but didn't find him.

His cheeks are like beds of spices, like towers of perfume. His lips are lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh.

Who is this coming up from the desert, leaning on her beloved? Under theapple tree I awakened you. There your mother had gone into labor with you; there she went into labor and gave birth to you.

Before I knew it, I imagined myself among the chariots of my noble people.

Your lips drip honey, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue. The scent of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

Where did your beloved go, most beautiful of women? Where did your beloved turn, so we may look for him with you?

I belong to my beloved, and my beloved belongs to me. He is the one who grazes his flock among the lilies.

His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice like its cedars.

His eyes are like doves by streams of water, bathed in milk, mounted like jewels.

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind. Make my garden breathe out, let its fragrance flow. Let my beloved come into his garden, and let him eat its choicest fruits.

I would lead you, I would bring you to the house of my mother who used to teach me. I would give you some spiced wine to drink, from the juice of my pomegranates.

How beautiful are your feet in sandals, noble lady. The curves of your thighs are like ornaments, the work of a skilled artist's hands.

If only you were like a brother to me, like one who nursed at my mother's breasts. If I found you outside I would kiss you, and no one would view me with contempt.

You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water, streams flowing from Lebanon.

King Solomon made the sedan chair for himself from the trees of Lebanon.

Your neck is like the tower of David, built with rows of stones. A thousand shields are hung upon it, all the shields of the warriors.

Come out, young women of Zion, and see King Solomon with the crown with which his mother crowned him on his wedding day his day of great delight.

You are beautiful, my darling, like Tirzah, lovely like Jerusalem, as awesome as an army with banners.

"I've taken off my clothes am I supposed to put them on again? I've washed my feet am I supposed to get them dirty again?"

He made its posts of silver, its back of gold. Its seat was purple, and its interior was lovingly inlaid by the young women of Jerusalem.

We have a little sister, and she has not yet reached maturity. What will we do for our sister to prepare her for her engagement?

Swear to me, young women of Jerusalem, that you won't awaken or arouse love before its proper time!

How beautiful and lovely you are, you are love with its exquisite delights.

Let his left hand be under my head, and let his right hand embrace me.

I got up to open the door, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handle of the lock.

My beloved reached out his hand for the latch. My feelings for him were aroused.

Turn your eyes from me, for they excite me. Your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Mt. Gilead.

My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to graze his flock in the gardens and gather lilies.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep about to be sheared, who are coming up from being washed. All of them are twins, not one has lost her young.

Your neck is like a tower of ivory. Your eyes are like the pools in Heshbon, beside the gate of Beth-rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, which faces Damascus.

Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your mouth is lovely. Behind your veil, your temple is like a slice of pomegranate.

Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks mixed wine. Your abdomen is a bundle of wheat, enclosed by lilies.

Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. Your flowing locks are like purple, and a king could be captured in the dangling tresses.

The watchmen who go all around the city found me. I asked, "Have you seen the one I love?"

I'll get up and go all around the city, throughout the streets, and in the squares. I'll seek the one I love. I sought him, but didn't find him.

Your stature is like a palm tree, and your breasts are like clusters of fruit.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.

Your teeth are like a flock of ewes coming up from being washed. All of them are twins, not one has lost her young.