The song of Songs, which is Solomon's.

Let him give me the kisses of his mouth: for his love is better than wine.

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

I am dark, but fair of form, O daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.

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?

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

While the king is seated at his table, my spices send out their perfume.

As a bag of myrrh is my well-loved one to me, when he is at rest all night between my breasts.

My love is to me as a branch of the cypress-tree in the vine-gardens of En-gedi.

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

As the lily-flower among the thorns of the waste, so is my love among the daughters.

As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my loved one among the sons. I took my rest under his shade with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.

His left hand is under my head, and his right hand is round about me.

I say to you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes of the field, do not let love be moved till it is ready.

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.

For, see, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;

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;

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.

My loved one is mine, and I am his: he takes his food among the flowers.

By night on my bed I was looking for him who is the love of my soul: I was looking for him, but I did not see him.

I will get up now and go about the town, in the streets and in the wide ways I will go after him who is the love of my soul: I went after him, but I did not see him.

The watchmen who go about the town came by me; to them I said, Have you seen him who is my heart's desire?

I was but a little way from them, when I came face to face with him who is the love of my soul. I took him by the hands, and did not let him go, till I had taken him into my mother's house, and into the room of her who gave me birth.

I say to you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes of the field, let not love be moved till it is ready.

Who is this coming out of the waste places like pillars of smoke, perfumed with sweet spices, with all the spices of the trader?

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

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.

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

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.

A garden walled-in is my sister, my bride; a garden shut up, a spring of water stopped.

The produce of the garden is pomegranates; with all the best fruits, henna and spikenard,

I am sleeping, but my heart is awake; it is the sound of my loved one at the door, saying, Be open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my very beautiful one; my head is wet with dew, and my hair with the drops of the night.

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?

My loved one is white and red, the chief among ten thousand.

His head is as the most delicate gold; his hair is thick, and black as a raven.

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

His face is as beds of spices, giving out perfumes of every sort; his lips like lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.

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.

His mouth is most sweet; yes, he is all beautiful. This is my loved one, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

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?

My loved one is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to take food in the gardens, and to get lilies.

I am for my loved one, and my loved one is for me; he takes food among the lilies.

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.

My dove, my very beautiful one, is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the dearest one of her who gave her birth. The daughters saw her, and gave her a blessing; yes, the queens and the servant-wives, and they gave her praises.

Who is she, looking down as the morning light, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, who is to be feared like an army with flags?

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

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.

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;

I am for my loved one, and his desire is for me.

Come, my loved one, let us go out into the field; let us take rest among the cypress-trees.

Let us go out early to the vine-gardens; let us see if the vine is in bud, if it has put out its young fruit, and the pomegranate is in flower. There I will give you my love.

I say to you, O daughters of Jerusalem, do not let love be moved till it is ready.

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.

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?

If she is a wall, we will make on her a strong base of silver; and if she is a door, we will let her be shut up with cedar-wood.

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

My vine-garden, which is mine, is before me: you, O Solomon, will have the thousand, and those who keep the fruit of them two hundred.