Let him kiss me over and over again! Your love is better than wine.

Take me with you! Let's run away! Let the king bring me into his private chambers. The daughters of Jerusalem will rejoice and be happy for you. We will value your love more than wine. They love you appropriately.

The daughters of Jerusalem, I'm dark and lovely like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon.

Don't stare at me because I'm dark; the sun has tanned me. My mother's sons were angry with me. They made me the caretaker of the vineyards, but I didn't take care of my own vineyard.

Tell me, you whom I love, where do you graze your flock? Where do you make your flock lie down at noon? Why should I be considered a veiled woman beside the flocks of your companions?

My darling, I compare you to a mare among Pharaoh's chariots.

While the king was sitting at his table, my perfume sent forth its fragrance.

My beloved is to me a pouch of myrrh that lies between my breasts all night.

My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms in the vineyards of En-gedi.

Look at you! You are beautiful, my darling. Look at you! You are so beautiful. Your eyes are doves.

Look at you! You are handsome, my beloved, truly lovely. How lush is our couch.

I'm a flower from Sharon, a lily of the valleys.

Like a lily among thorns, so is my darling among the young women.

Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the young men. In his shade I take delight and sit down, and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

He has brought me to the banquet hall, and his banner over me is love.

Sustain me with raisin cakes, refresh me with apples, for I'm weak with love.

I wish that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand were embracing me!

Swear to me, young women of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the does of the field, that you won't awaken or arouse love before its proper time!

The voice of my beloved! Look! He's coming, leaping over the mountains, bounding over the hills.

My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look, there he stands behind our wall, looking through the windows, gazing through the lattice.

My beloved spoke to me: "Get up, my darling, my beautiful one, and come on.

The fig tree has produced its fruit, the grapevines have blossomed and exude their fragrance. "Get up, my darling, my beautiful one, and come on.

My dove, in the hidden places of the rocks, in the secret places of the cliffs, show me your form, and let me hear your voice. For your voice is pleasant, and your shape is lovely.

My beloved belongs to me and I belong to him. He is the one who shepherds his flock among the lilies.

Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, turn around, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the rugged mountains.

Night after night on my bed, I sought the one I love; I sought him, but didn't find him.

The watchmen who go all around the city found me. I asked, "Have you seen the one I love?"

I had just passed them when I found the one I love. I held him and wouldn't let him go until I brought him to my mother's house, to the room of the one who conceived me.

Swear to me, young women of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the does of the field, that you won't awaken or arouse love before its proper time!

Look at you! You are beautiful, my darling. Look at you! You are so beautiful. Your eyes behind your veil are doves, your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Mt. Gilead.

My darling, you are altogether beautiful and there is no blemish in you.

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon. May you journey from the top of Amana, from the tops of Senir and Hermon, from the dens of lions, from the mountain lairs of leopards.

You have made my heart beat faster, my sister, my bride. You have made my heart beat faster with one glance of your eyes, with one strand of your necklace.

How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride. How much better is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than all kinds of spices.

Your lips drip honey, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue. The scent of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

My sister, my bride, is a locked garden a locked rock garden, a sealed up spring.

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind. Make my garden breathe out, let its fragrance flow. Let my beloved come into his garden, and let him eat its choicest fruits.

I've come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I've gathered my myrrh with my spices. I've eaten my honeycomb with my honey. I've drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, friends! Drink and become drunk with love.

I was asleep, but my heart was awake. There's a sound! My beloved is knocking. "Open up for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one. For my head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

"I've taken off my clothes am I supposed to put them on again? I've washed my feet am I supposed to get them dirty again?"

My beloved reached out his hand for the latch. My feelings for him were aroused.

I got up to open the door, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handle of the lock.

I opened the door for my beloved, but my beloved had turned away; he was gone! My very life went out when he departed. I searched for him, but couldn't find him. I called out to him, but he didn't answer.

The watchmen making their rounds through the city found me. They beat me, they bruised me. Those guarding the walls took my cloak from me.

I charge you, young women of Jerusalem, "If you find my beloved, what are you to tell him? Tell him that I'm weak with love."

My beloved is dazzling, with a dark and healthy complexion, outstanding among ten thousand.

His mouth is sweetness, and all of him is desirable. This is my beloved, this is my friend, young women of Jerusalem!

Where did your beloved go, most beautiful of women? Where did your beloved turn, so we may look for him with you?

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

I belong to my beloved, and my beloved belongs to me. He is the one who grazes his flock among the lilies.

You are beautiful, my darling, like Tirzah, lovely like Jerusalem, as awesome as an army with banners.

Turn your eyes from me, for they excite me. Your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Mt. Gilead.

but my dove, my perfect one, is unique. She's unique to her mother, she's pure to the one who gave birth to her. Young women see her and call her blessed, queens and mistresses praise her.

Before I knew it, I imagined myself among the chariots of my noble people.

Return, return, Shulammite, return, return, so we may look at you! Why should you look at the Shulammite, like you watch the dance of the two camps?

I told myself, "I'll go up the palm tree, and take hold of its fruit. May your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the smell of your breath like apples.

May your mouth be like good wine. May it go down smoothly to my beloved, gliding gently over the lips of the sleeping ones.

I belong to my beloved, and his desire is for me.

Come, my beloved. Let us go out to the country, let us spend the night in the villages.

Let us go early to the vineyards, let us see whether the vine has budded, whether the blossom has opened, whether the pomegranates have bloomed. There I'll give you my love.

The mandrakes give off their fragrance, and over our doors are all the choice fruits, both old and new, that I've stored up for you, my beloved.

If only you were like a brother to me, like one who nursed at my mother's breasts. If I found you outside I would kiss you, and no one would view me with contempt.

I would lead you, I would bring you to the house of my mother who used to teach me. I would give you some spiced wine to drink, from the juice of my pomegranates.

Let his left hand be under my head, and let his right hand embrace me.

Swear to me, young women of Jerusalem, that you won't awaken or arouse love before its proper time!

Set me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm. For love is as strong as death, passion as intense as Sheol. The flames of love are flames of fire, a blaze that comes from the LORD.

I was a wall and my breasts were like towers. Then I became like one who finds peace in his eyes.

My vineyard belongs to me and is at my disposal. The 1,000 are for you, Solomon, and 200 are for those who take care of its fruit.

You who sit in the gardens, companions are listening for your voice, but let me hear it.

Come quickly, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.