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

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.

Till the evening comes, and the sky slowly becomes dark, come, my loved one, and be like a roe on the mountains of Bether.

Till the evening comes, and the sky slowly becomes dark, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.