The Beloved to Her Lover: Oh, how I wish you would kiss me passionately! For your lovemaking is more delightful than wine.

Scarcely had I passed them by when I found my beloved! I held onto him tightly and would not let him go until I brought him to my mother's house, to the bedroom chamber of the one who conceived me.

The Maidens to The Beloved: Why is your beloved better than others, O most beautiful of women? Why is your beloved better than others, that you would command us in this manner?

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!

I would lead you and bring you to my mother's house, the one who taught me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the nectar of my pomegranates.

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.