Let not your eyes be turned on me, because I am dark, because I was looked on by the sun; my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vine-gardens; but my vine-garden I have not kept.

My loved one is like a roe; see, he is on the other side of our wall, he is looking in at the windows, letting himself be seen through the spaces.

The watchmen who go about the town came by me; to them I said, Have you seen him who is my heart's desire?

Who is she, looking down as the morning light, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, who is to be feared like an army with flags?

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.