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

I charge you, O you daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the hinds of the field, that you stir not up, nor awake love, till it pleases.

I charge you, O you daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the hinds of the field, that you stir not up, nor awake my love, till it pleases.

He made its posts of silver, its base of gold, the covering of its seat of purple, its interior being paved with love, by the daughters of Jerusalem.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him, that I am sick with love.

His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

You are beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, lovely as Jerusalem, awesome as an army with banners.

I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up, nor awake my love, until it pleases.