Woe to you, O land, when your king is childish, and your princes feast in the morning!

Blessed are you, O land, when your king is the son of nobility, and your princes feast at the proper time -- with self-control and not in drunkenness.

Feasts are made for laughter, and wine makes life merry, but money is the answer for everything.

Do not curse a king even in your thoughts, and do not curse the rich while in your bedroom; for a bird might report what you are thinking, or some winged creature might repeat your words.

Send your grain overseas, for after many days you will get a return.

Divide your merchandise among seven or even eight investments, for you do not know what calamity may happen on earth.

If the clouds are full of rain, they will empty themselves on the earth, and whether a tree falls to the south or to the north, the tree will lie wherever it falls.

Just as you do not know the path of the wind, or how the bones form in the womb of a pregnant woman, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything.

Sow your seed in the morning, and do not stop working until the evening; for you do not know which activity will succeed -- whether this one or that one, or whether both will prosper equally.

Rejoice, young man, while you are young, and let your heart cheer you in the days of your youth. Follow the impulses of your heart and the desires of your eyes, but know that God will judge your motives and actions.

Banish emotional stress from your mind. and put away pain from your body; for youth and the prime of life are fleeting.

So remember your Creator in the days of your youth -- before the difficult days come, and the years draw near when you will say, "I have no pleasure in them";

and the doors along the street are shut; when the sound of the grinding mill grows low, and one is awakened by the sound of a bird, and all their songs grow faint,

and they are afraid of heights and the dangers in the street; the almond blossoms grow white, and the grasshopper drags itself along, and the caper berry shrivels up -- because man goes to his eternal home, and the mourners go about in the streets --

before the silver cord is removed, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher is shattered at the well, or the water wheel is broken at the cistern --

"Absolutely futile!" laments the Teacher, "All of these things are futile!"

The words of the sages are like prods, and the collected sayings are like firmly fixed nails; they are given by one shepherd.

For God will evaluate every deed, including every secret thing, whether good or evil.

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

The fragrance of your colognes is delightful; your name is like the finest perfume. No wonder the young women adore you!

Draw me after you; let us hurry! May the king bring me into his bedroom chambers! The Maidens to the Lover: We will rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine. The Beloved to Her Lover: How rightly the young women adore you!

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!

The Beloved to Her Lover: Tell me, O you whom my heart loves, where do you pasture your sheep? Where do you rest your sheep during the midday heat? Tell me lest I wander around beside the flocks of your companions!

The Lover to His Beloved: If you do not know, O most beautiful of women, simply follow the tracks of my flock, and pasture your little lambs beside the tents of the shepherds.

The Lover to His Beloved: O my beloved, you are like a mare among Pharaoh's stallions.

Your cheeks are beautiful with ornaments; your neck is lovely with strings of jewels.

The Lover to His Beloved: Oh, how beautiful you are, my beloved! Oh, how beautiful you are! Your eyes are like doves!

The Beloved to Her Lover: Oh, how handsome you are, my lover! Oh, how delightful you are! The lush foliage is our canopied bed;

the cedars are the beams of our bedroom chamber; the pines are the rafters of our bedroom.

The Beloved to the Maidens: I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and by the young does of the open fields: Do not awaken or arouse love until it pleases!

My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the window, peering through the lattice.

Look! The winter has passed, the winter rains are over and gone.

The pomegranates have appeared in the land, the time for pruning and singing has come; the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

The Lover to His Beloved: O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places of the mountain crags, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes, that ruin the vineyards -- for our vineyard is in bloom.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Until the dawn arrives and the shadows flee, turn, my beloved -- be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountain gorges.

The Adjuration Refrain The Beloved to the Maidens:I admonish you, O maidens of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and by the young does of the open fields: "Do not awake or arouse love until it pleases!"

All of them are skilled with a sword, well-trained in the art of warfare. Each has his sword at his side, to guard against the terrors of the night.

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.

The Lover to His Beloved: Oh, you are beautiful, my darling! Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are like doves. Your hair is like a flock of female goats descending from Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of newly-shorn sheep coming up from the washing place; each of them has a twin, and not one of them is missing.

Your lips are like a scarlet thread; your mouth is lovely. Your forehead behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.

Your neck is like the tower of David built with courses of stones; one thousand shields are hung on it -- all shields of valiant warriors.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of the gazelle grazing among the lilies.

You are altogether beautiful, my darling! There is no blemish in you!

You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride! You have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace.

How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine; the fragrance of your perfume is better than any spice!

Your lips drip sweetness like the honeycomb, my bride, honey and milk are under your tongue. The fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

The Lover to His Beloved: You are a locked garden, my sister, my bride; you are an enclosed spring, a sealed-up fountain.

Your shoots are a royal garden full of pomegranates with choice fruits: henna with nard,

You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water flowing down from Lebanon.

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

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?

His eyes are like doves by streams of water, washed in milk, mounted like jewels.

His cheeks are like garden beds full of balsam trees yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with drops of myrrh.

His arms are like rods of gold set with chrysolite. His abdomen is like polished ivory inlaid with sapphires.

His legs are like pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.

The Maidens to the Beloved: Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Where has your beloved turned? Tell us, that we may seek him with you.

The Lover to His Beloved: My darling, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as awe-inspiring as bannered armies!

Turn your eyes away from me -- they overwhelm me! Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin; not one of them is missing.

Like a slice of pomegranate is your forehead behind your veil.

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.

I was beside myself with joy! There please give me your myrrh, O daughter of my princely people.

The Lover to His Beloved: How beautiful are your sandaled feet, O nobleman's daughter! The curves of your thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a master craftsman.

Your navel is a round mixing bowl -- may it never lack mixed wine! Your belly is a mound of wheat, encircled by lilies.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.

Your neck is like a tower made of ivory. Your eyes are the pools in Heshbon by the gate of Bath-Rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon overlooking Damascus.

Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. The locks of your hair are like royal tapestries -- the king is held captive in its tresses!

How beautiful you are! How lovely, O love, with your delights!

The Lover to His Beloved: Your stature is like a palm tree, and your breasts are like clusters of grapes.

I want to climb the palm tree, and take hold of its fruit stalks. May your breasts be like the clusters of grapes, and may the fragrance of your breath be like apricots!

May your mouth be like the best wine, flowing smoothly for my beloved, gliding gently over our lips as we sleep together.

Let us rise early to go to the vineyards, to see if the vines have budded, to see if their blossoms have opened, if the pomegranates are in bloom -- there I will give you my love.

The mandrakes send out their fragrance; over our door is every delicacy, both new and old, which I have stored up for you, my lover.

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!

The Beloved to the Maidens: I admonish you, O maidens of Jerusalem: "Do not arouse or awaken love until it pleases!"

The Maidens about His Beloved: Who is this coming up from the desert, leaning on her beloved? The Beloved to Her Lover: Under the apple tree I aroused you; there your mother conceived you, there she who bore you was in labor of childbirth.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Set me like a cylinder seal over your heart, like a signet on your arm. For love is as strong as death, passion is as unrelenting as Sheol. Its flames burst forth, it is a blazing flame.

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's Brothers: We have a little sister, and as yet she has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister on the day when she is spoken for?

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

The Lover to His Beloved: O you who stay in the gardens, my companions are listening attentively for your voice; let me be the one to hear it!

The Beloved to Her Lover: Make haste, my beloved! Be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.

An ox recognizes its owner, a donkey recognizes where its owner puts its food; but Israel does not recognize me, my people do not understand."

The sinful nation is as good as dead, the people weighed down by evil deeds. They are offspring who do wrong, children who do wicked things. They have abandoned the Lord, and rejected the Holy One of Israel. They are alienated from him.

Why do you insist on being battered? Why do you continue to rebel? Your head has a massive wound, your whole body is weak.

From the soles of your feet to your head, there is no spot that is unharmed. There are only bruises, cuts, and open wounds. They have not been cleansed or bandaged, nor have they been treated with olive oil.

Your land is devastated, your cities burned with fire. Right before your eyes your crops are being destroyed by foreign invaders. They leave behind devastation and destruction.

Daughter Zion is left isolated, like a hut in a vineyard, or a shelter in a cucumber field; she is a besieged city.

Listen to the Lord's word, you leaders of Sodom! Pay attention to our God's rebuke, people of Gomorrah!

"Of what importance to me are your many sacrifices?" says the Lord. "I am stuffed with burnt sacrifices of rams and the fat from steers. The blood of bulls, lambs, and goats I do not want.

Do not bring any more meaningless offerings; I consider your incense detestable! You observe new moon festivals, Sabbaths, and convocations, but I cannot tolerate sin-stained celebrations!

I hate your new moon festivals and assemblies; they are a burden that I am tired of carrying.

When you spread out your hands in prayer, I look the other way; when you offer your many prayers, I do not listen, because your hands are covered with blood.

Wash! Cleanse yourselves! Remove your sinful deeds from my sight. Stop sinning!

Come, let's consider your options," says the Lord. "Though your sins have stained you like the color red, you can become white like snow; though they are as easy to see as the color scarlet, you can become white like wool.

Your silver has become scum, your beer is diluted with water.

Your officials are rebels, they associate with thieves. All of them love bribery, and look for payoffs. They do not take up the cause of the orphan, or defend the rights of the widow.

I will attack you; I will purify your metal with flux. I will remove all your slag.