“Draw me away with you and let us run together!
Let the king bring me into his chambers.”

I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.

Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me: my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.

Thy cheeks are comely with bead-rows, Thy neck with ornamental chains.

We will make thee bead-rows of gold With studs of silver.

Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: also our bed is green.

(The Bridegroom)
“Like the lily among the thorns,
So are you, my darling, among the maidens.”

The fig-tree puts out her green fruit and the vines with their young fruit give a good smell. Get up from your bed, my beautiful one, and come away.

By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.

I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.

It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.

Behold his bed, which is Solomon's; threescore valiant men are about it, of the valiant of Israel.

King Solomon made himself a bed of the wood of Lebanon.

Go out, O daughters of Jerusalem, and see King Solomon, with the crown which his mother put on his head on the day when he was married, and on the day of the joy of his heart.

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.

The Lover to His Beloved: I have entered my garden, O my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my balsam spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk! The Poet to the Couple: Eat, friends, and drink! Drink freely, O lovers!

I sleep, but my heart waketh: it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.

I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?

My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my bowels were moved for him.

I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

The sentinels making rounds in the city found me; they beat me, they wounded me; they took my cloak away from me-- {those sentinels on the walls}!

His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.

My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the garden bed of the spice, to pasture his flock and to gather lilies in the garden.

(The Bridegroom)
“You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my darling,
As lovely as Jerusalem,
As majestic as an army with banners!

My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.

I went down into the garden of nuts to see the green plants of the valley, and to see if the vine was in bud, and the pomegranate-trees were in flower.

Before I knew it,
my desire put me
among the chariots of my noble people.

(The Chorus)
“Return, return, O Shulammite;
Return, return, that we may gaze at you.”

Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee my loves.

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.

Much water may not put out love, or the deep waters overcome it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would be judged a price not great enough.

Our sister is but young, and hath no breasts: what shall we do for our sister when she shall be spoken for?

“If she is a wall (discreet, womanly),
We will build on her a turret (dowry) of silver;
But if she is a door (bold, flirtatious),
We will enclose her with planks of cedar.”

{Solomon had a vineyard} at Baal-hamon; {he entrusted his vineyard to the keepers}; {people paid a thousand silver [pieces] for its fruit}.

“My very own vineyard is at my disposal;
The thousand [shekels of silver] are for you, O Solomon,
And two hundred are for those who tend the fruit.”

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