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

The fragrance of your perfumed oil is wonderful. Your name is perfume poured out. Therefore the young women love you.

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.

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?

If you don't know, most beautiful of women, go out after the flock and graze your young goats beside the shepherd's tents.

Your cheeks are lovely with ornaments, your neck with strings of jewels.

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.

The beams of our house are cedar, our rafters are pine.

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!

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.

Blossoms have appeared in the land. The season of songbirds has arrived, and cooing of turtledoves is heard in our land.

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.

Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that destroy the vineyards, our vineyards that are in bloom."

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.

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!

All of them are wearing swords and are experienced in battle. Each has his sword on his thigh, ready for the terror of the night.

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.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep about to be sheared, who are coming up from being washed. All of them are twins, not one has lost her young.

Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your mouth is lovely. Behind your veil, your temple is like a slice of pomegranate.

Your neck is like the tower of David, built with rows of stones. A thousand shields are hung upon it, all the shields of the warriors.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle grazing among the lilies.

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

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.

Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with choice fruit, henna with nard,

You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water, streams flowing from Lebanon.

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

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."

What is so special about your beloved, most beautiful of women? What is so special about your beloved, that you charge us like this?

His eyes are like doves by streams of water, bathed in milk, mounted like jewels.

His cheeks are like beds of spices, like towers of perfume. His lips are lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh.

His hands are rods of gold, set with beryl. His stomach is carved ivory, inlaid with sapphires.

His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice like its cedars.

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

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.

Your teeth are like a flock of ewes coming up from being washed. All of them are twins, not one has lost her young.

Your temple behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.

There are sixty queens and eighty mistresses, and too many young women to count,

How beautiful are your feet in sandals, noble lady. The curves of your thighs are like ornaments, the work of a skilled artist's hands.

Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks mixed wine. Your abdomen is a bundle of wheat, enclosed by lilies.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.

Your neck is like a tower of ivory. Your eyes are like the pools in Heshbon, beside the gate of Beth-rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, which faces Damascus.

Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. Your flowing locks are like purple, and a king could be captured in the dangling tresses.

How beautiful and lovely you are, you are love with its exquisite delights.

Your stature is like a palm tree, and your breasts are like clusters of fruit.

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.

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.

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

Who is this coming up from the desert, leaning on her beloved? Under theapple tree I awakened you. There your mother had gone into labor with you; there she went into labor and gave birth to you.

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.

Mighty bodies of water cannot extinguish love, rivers cannot put it out. If a man were to give all the wealth of his house for love, he would surely be viewed with contempt.

We have a little sister, and she has not yet reached maturity. What will we do for our sister to prepare her for her engagement?

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.