Don't 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. I haven't kept my own vineyard.

If you don't know, most beautiful among women, follow the tracks of the sheep. Graze your young goats beside the shepherds' tents.

As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, his fruit was sweet to my taste.

My beloved is white and ruddy. The best among ten thousand.

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

I went down into the nut tree grove, to see the green plants of the valley, to see whether the vine budded, and the pomegranates were in flower.

Your mouth like the best wine, that goes down smoothly for my beloved, gliding through the lips of those who are asleep.