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.

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?

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

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

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.

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.

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!

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

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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 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.

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

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

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."

"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?"

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

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.

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."

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

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

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

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.

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.

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?

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.