Do not stare at me because I am dark, for the sun has burned my skin. My brothers were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards. Alas, my own vineyard I could not keep!

Its posts were made of silver; its back was made of gold. Its seat was upholstered with purple wool; its interior was inlaid with leather by the maidens of Jerusalem.

My lover thrust his hand through the hole, and my feelings were stirred for him.

The Lover to His Beloved: I went down to the orchard of walnut trees, to look for the blossoms of the valley, to see if the vines had budded or if the pomegranates were in bloom.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Oh, how I wish you were my little brother, nursing at my mother's breasts; if I saw you outside, I could kiss you -- surely no one would despise me!

Surging waters cannot quench love; floodwaters cannot overflow it. If someone were to offer all his possessions to buy love, the offer would be utterly despised.

The Beloved: I was a wall, and my breasts were like fortress towers. Then I found favor in his eyes.