Sweet is the smell of your perfumes; your name is as perfume running out; so the young girls give you their love.

Take me to you, and we will go after you: the king has taken me into his house. We will be glad and full of joy in you, we will give more thought to your love than to wine: rightly are they your lovers.

Let not your eyes be turned on me, because I am dark, because I was looked on by the sun; my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vine-gardens; but my vine-garden I have not kept.

Say, O love of my soul, where you give food to your flock, and where you make them take their rest in the heat of the day; why have I to be as one wandering by the flocks of your friends?

If you have not knowledge, O most beautiful among women, go on your way in the footsteps of the flock, and give your young goats food by the tents of the keepers.

Your face is a delight with rings of hair, your neck with chains of jewels.

See, you are fair, my love, you are fair; you have the eyes of a dove.

See, you are fair, my loved one, and a pleasure; our bed is green.

Cedar-trees are the pillars of our house; and our boards are made of fir-trees.

My loved one is like a roe; see, he is on the other side of our wall, he is looking in at the windows, letting himself be seen through the spaces.

The flowers are come on the earth; the time of cutting the vines is come, and the voice of the dove is sounding in our land;

The fig-tree puts out her green fruit and the vines with their young fruit give a good smell. Get up from your bed, my beautiful one, and come away.

O my dove, you are in the holes of the mountain sides, in the cracks of the high hills; let me see your face, let your voice come to my ears; for sweet is your voice, and your face is fair.

Take for us the foxes, the little foxes, which do damage to the vines; our vines have young grapes.

See, it is the bed of Solomon; sixty men of war are about it, of the army of Israel,

All of them armed with swords, trained in war; every man has his sword at his side, because of fear in the night.

See, you are fair, my love, you are fair; you have the eyes of a dove; your hair is as a flock of goats, which take their rest on the side of Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep whose wool is newly cut, which come up from the washing; every one has two lambs, and there is not one without young.

Your red lips are like a bright thread, and your mouth is fair of form; the sides of your head are like pomegranate fruit under your veil.

Your neck is like the tower of David made for a store-house of arms, in which a thousand breastplates are hanging, breastplates for fighting-men.

Your two breasts are like two young roes of the same birth, which take their food among the lilies.

You are all fair, my love; there is no mark on you.

You have taken away my heart, my sister, my bride; you have taken away my heart, with one look you have taken it, with one chain of your neck!

How fair is your love, my sister! How much better is your love than wine, and the smell of your oils than any perfume!

Your lips are dropping honey; honey and milk are under your tongue; and the smell of your clothing is like the smell of Lebanon.

You are a fountain of gardens, a spring of living waters, and flowing waters from Lebanon.

I have put off my coat; how may I put it on? My feet are washed; how may I make them unclean?

I got up to let my loved one in; and my hands were dropping with myrrh, and my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the lock of the door.

What is your loved one more than another, O fairest among women? What is your loved one more than another, that you say this to us?

His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the water streams, washed with milk, and rightly placed.

His hands are as rings of gold ornamented with beryl-stones; his body is as a smooth plate of ivory covered with sapphires.

His legs are as pillars of stone on a base of delicate gold; his looks are as Lebanon, beautiful as the cedar-tree.

Where is your loved one gone, O most fair among women? Where is your loved one turned away, that we may go looking for him with you?

You are beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, as fair as Jerusalem; you are to be feared like an army with flags.

Let your eyes be turned away from me; see, they have overcome me; your hair is as a flock of goats which take their rest on the side of Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep which come up from the washing; every one has two lambs, and there is not one without young.

Like pomegranate fruit are the sides of your head under your veil.

There are sixty queens, and eighty servant-wives, and young girls without number.

I went down into the garden of nuts to see the green plants of the valley, and to see if the vine was in bud, and the pomegranate-trees were in flower.

Come back, come back, O Shulammite; come back, come back, so that our eyes may see you. What will you see in the Shulammite? A sword-dance.

How beautiful are your feet in their shoes, O king's daughter! The curves of your legs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a good workman:

Your stomach is a store of grain with lilies round it, and in the middle a round cup full of wine.

Your two breasts are like two young roes of the same birth.

Your neck is as a tower of ivory; your eyes like the waters in Heshbon, by the doorway of Bath-rabbim; your nose is as the tower on Lebanon looking over Damascus:

Your head is like Carmel, and the hair of your head is like purple, in whose net the king is prisoner.

How beautiful and how sweet you are, O love, for delight.

You are tall like a palm-tree, and your breasts are like the fruit of the vine.

I said, Let me go up the palm-tree, and let me take its branches in my hands: your breasts will be as the fruit of the vine, and the smell of your breath like apples;

And the roof of your mouth like good wine flowing down smoothly for my loved one, moving gently over my lips and my teeth.

The mandrakes give out a sweet smell, and at our doors are all sorts of good fruits, new and old, which I have kept for my loved one.

Oh that you were my brother, who took milk from my mother's breasts! When I came to you in the street, I would give you kisses; yes, I would not be looked down on.

Who is this, who comes up from the waste places, resting on her loved one? It was I who made you awake under the apple-tree, where your mother gave you birth; there she was in pain at your birth.

Put me as a sign on your heart, as a sign on your arm; love is strong as death, and wrath bitter as the underworld: its coals are coals of fire; violent are its flames.

Much water may not put out love, or the deep waters overcome it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would be judged a price not great enough.

We have a young sister, and she has no breasts; what are we to do for our sister in the day when she is given to a man?

I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers; then was I in his eyes as one to whom good chance had come.

You who have your resting-place in the gardens, the friends give ear to your voice; make me give ear to it.