The mandrakes give off their fragrance, and over our doors are all the choice fruits, both old and new, that I've stored up for you, my beloved.

If only you were like a brother to me, like one who nursed at my mother's breasts. If I found you outside I would kiss you, and no one would view me with contempt.

I would lead you, I would bring you to the house of my mother who used to teach me. I would give you some spiced wine to drink, from the juice of my pomegranates.

Mighty bodies of water cannot extinguish love, rivers cannot put it out. If a man were to give all the wealth of his house for love, he would surely be viewed with contempt.