The Beloved to Her Lover: Oh, how I wish you would kiss me passionately! For your lovemaking is more delightful than wine.

Draw me after you; let us hurry! May the king bring me into his bedroom chambers! The Maidens to the Lover: We will rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine. The Beloved to Her Lover: How rightly the young women adore you!

The Beloved to Her Lover: Tell me, O you whom my heart loves, where do you pasture your sheep? Where do you rest your sheep during the midday heat? Tell me lest I wander around beside the flocks of your companions!

The Beloved about Her Lover: While the king was at his banqueting table, my nard gave forth its fragrance.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Oh, how handsome you are, my lover! Oh, how delightful you are! The lush foliage is our canopied bed;

The Beloved to Her Lover: I am a meadow flower from Sharon, a lily from the valleys.

The Beloved about Her Lover: Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

The Beloved about Her Lover: He brought me into the banquet hall, and he looked at me lovingly.

The Beloved about Her Lover: Listen! My lover is approaching! Look! Here he comes, leaping over the mountains, bounding over the hills!

The Lover to His Beloved: O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places of the mountain crags, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes, that ruin the vineyards -- for our vineyard is in bloom.

The Beloved about Her Lover: My lover is mine and I am his; he grazes among the lilies.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Until the dawn arrives and the shadows flee, turn, my beloved -- be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountain gorges.

The Beloved about Her Lover: All night long on my bed I longed for my lover. I longed for him but he never appeared.

The Lover to His Beloved: Oh, you are beautiful, my darling! Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are like doves. Your hair is like a flock of female goats descending from Mount Gilead.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Awake, O north wind; come, O south wind! Blow on my garden so that its fragrant spices may send out their sweet smell. May my beloved come into his garden and eat its delightful fruit!

The Beloved about Her Lover: I was asleep, but my mind was dreaming. Listen! My lover is knocking at the door! The Lover to His Beloved: "Open for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one! My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

The Beloved to Her Lover: "I have already taken off my robe -- must I put it on again? I have already washed my feet -- must I soil them again?"

His head is like the most pure gold. His hair is curly -- black like a raven.

The Beloved about Her Lover: I am my lover's and my lover is mine; he grazes among the lilies.

Turn your eyes away from me -- they overwhelm me! Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Mount Gilead.

But she is unique! My dove, my perfect one! She is the special daughter of her mother, she is the favorite of the one who bore her. The maidens saw her and complimented her; the queens and concubines praised her:

The Lover to His Beloved: Turn, turn, O Perfect One! Turn, turn, that I may stare at you! The Beloved to Her Lover: Why do you gaze upon the Perfect One like the dance of the Mahanaim?

Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. The locks of your hair are like royal tapestries -- the king is held captive in its tresses!

The Beloved about Her Lover: I am my beloved's, and he desires me!

The Beloved to Her Lover: Come, my beloved, let us go to the countryside; let us spend the night in the villages.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Oh, how I wish you were my little brother, nursing at my mother's breasts; if I saw you outside, I could kiss you -- surely no one would despise me!

The Beloved about Her Lover: His left hand caresses my head, and his right hand stimulates me.

The Maidens about His Beloved: Who is this coming up from the desert, leaning on her beloved? The Beloved to Her Lover: Under the apple tree I aroused you; there your mother conceived you, there she who bore you was in labor of childbirth.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Set me like a cylinder seal over your heart, like a signet on your arm. For love is as strong as death, passion is as unrelenting as Sheol. Its flames burst forth, it is a blazing flame.

If she is a wall, we will build on her a battlement of silver; but if she is a door, we will barricade her with boards of cedar.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-Hamon; he leased out the vineyard to those who maintained it. Each was to bring a thousand shekels of silver for its fruit.

The Lover to His Beloved: O you who stay in the gardens, my companions are listening attentively for your voice; let me be the one to hear it!

The Beloved to Her Lover: Make haste, my beloved! Be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.