The First Poem

2 (she says)

O for a kiss from your lips,

your caresses are better than wine.

3 Your perfumes are fine in their fragrance,

as perfumes poured forth is your name.

No wonder the young women love you!

4 Draw me after you, O let us hasten,

O king, bring me into your chamber.

In you we’ll find joy and be glad,

more than wine shall we praise your caresses.

Yes, they are right who love you!

5 I am dark and yet lovely,

you girls of Jerusalem,

like the dark tents of Kedar,

the fine curtains of Solomon.

6 Don’t stare at me strangely

because I am dark,

it was the sun that scorched me.

Once the sons of my mother

were angry with me,

so they set me to watch the vineyards,

but the vineyard that was my own

I watched not at all.

7 O tell me, love of my life,

where you rest your flocks,

where you rest at noon,

for why should I wander in vain

and be seen by the flocks of your friends?

8 (he replies)

If you don’t know the way,

O fairest of women,

follow the tracks of my flock,

feed your kids where the shepherds are camped.

9 To me you are like, my love,

a fine horse in Pharaoh’s chariot –

10 your cheeks all lovely with ornaments,

your neck with strings of jewels.

11 I will make you circlets of gold

with pendants of silver.

8 (she says)

12 While the king on his couch is reclining,

my fragrant spikenard fills the air.

13 A scent-bag of myrrh is my loved one,

that lies between my breasts.

14 My love is a cluster of henna

in the vineyards of En-gedi.

8 (he says)

15 O how fair you are, my love,

how fair, with dove-like eyes!

16 (she says)

O how handsome you are, my beloved!

Green grass is our bed,

17 our house has cedars for beams,

and our rafters are fir.

2 Just a little flower am I,

a mere lily of the valleys.

2 (he says)

As a lily among the thorns,

so is my darling among the maidens.

3 (she says)

Like a fruit tree in a forest,

so is my love among the young men.

In his shadow I sit with delight,

and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

4 He brought me to the house of wine,

he covered my with his love.

5 Sustain me with cakes of raisins,

refresh me with apples,

for Iam faint with love.

6 His left arm is under my head,

and his right arm is round me.

7 Swear, O girls of Jerusalem,

by the gazelles and wild does,

don’t disturb our love

before we are satisfied!

The Second Poem

8 Listen! My lover!

See, he comes,

leaping the mountains,

skipping the hills,

9 a gazelle,

a young stag.

See, there he stands

in front of our wall,

looking through the window,

peering though the latice,

10 my love calls to me:

"Come my love,

my love, come away.

11 For see! The winter is past,

the rain is over and gone,

12 the flowers appear in the land,

the time for pruning is come,

and the turtledove’s cooing is heard,

13 the figs on the fig trees are ripening,

the vines are all blossom and fragrance.

Arise, my beloved,

my fair, come away."

14 O my dove, from your craggy retreat,

from your hiding-place steep,

show me your face,

let me hear your voice,

for your voice is so sweet

and your face is so lovely.

15 Catch the jackals,

those little jackals,

out to ruin my vineyard,

my vineyard in bloom.

16 My beloved is mine, I am his:

he grazes his flock among the lilies.

17 Till cool grows the day,

and the shadows depart,

turn, my beloved,

swift like the roe

or the playful gazelle

on the mountains of Bether.

3 Night after night on my bed

I longed for my lover.

I longed for him

but he was nowhere to be found.

2 I will rise and go over the city,

its streets and its squares -

I will seek my beloved!

But I could not find him.

3 I was found by the watchmen who passed

on their round of the city.

"Tell me," I said, "Have you seen

my beloved?"

4 Scarce had I parted from them

when I found my beloved.

I held him and would not let go,

until I brought him to my mother’s home,

to the room of my conceiving.

5 Swear, O girls of Jerusalem,

by the gazelles and wild does,

don’t disturb our love

before we are satisfied!

The Third Poem

6 Who is this coming up from the desert

like columns of smoke,

perfumed with myrrh and frankincense,

all scents of the merchant?

7 Look! It is Solomon’s litter,

and round it three score valiant men

of the valiant of Israel,

8 each with a sword in his hand,

and acquainted with war –

every man with a sword at his side

ready for the dangers of night.

9 The king had a palanquin made him

of Lebanon wood.

10 Its posts he had fashioned of silver;

its back was of gold.

Its seat was of purple: within

it was inlaid with ebony.

11 Come forth and look on the king,

daughters of Zion,

in the crown he received from his mother

the day he was wedded,

with gladness of heart.

4 (he says)

How fair, my love, you are,

with your dove-like eyes

behind your veil,

and your hair like a flock of black goats

streaming down from mount Gilead;

2 your teeth like a white flock new shorn

just come up from the washing,

ranged in a double row,

not one of them lacking;

3 your lips like a scarlet thread

and your mouth so lovely;

your cheeks like halves of pomegranate,

seen through your veil;

4 your neck like the tower of David,

built in circles of stones,

hung with a thousand shields,

all shields of warriors;

5 your breasts like a pair of fawns:

twin fawns of a gazelle

grazing among the lilies.

6 Till the day grows cool

and the shadows depart

I will go to your mountains of myrrh,

and your hills of frankincense.

7 All of you is beautiful, my love,

beautiful without a flaw.

8 Come with me from Lebanon, my sweetheart,

come from Lebanon,

come down from the top of Amana,

from the top of Senir and Hermon,

from the lions” dens,

from the lairs of the leopards.

9 You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride,

one glance of your eyes has bewitched me,

one glint of your necklace. *****

10 How sweet thy caress, sister bride!

10 How much better than wine thy caresses!

Thy lips, O my bride, drip with honey,

And milk leith under thy tongue.

Thy garments are fragrant as Lebanon;

10 Thy perfumes are sweeter than balsam.

12 A garden enclosed is my sister,

And garden enclosed, a sealed fountain;

13 Thy shoots are a pomegranate paradise–

Choicest of fruits,

Henna and spikenard,

14 Spikenard and saffron,

Calamus and cinnamon,

With all trees of incense,

Aloes and myrrh,

With the chief spices all.

15 Thou art the fount of my garden,

A well of fresh water,

Like streamlets of Lebanon.

16 O North wind, awake,

And come, thou South,

And blow on my garden,

That perfume be wafted.

"Let my darling come into his garden

And taste its choice fruits."

5 I am come to my garden, my sister;

I gather me balsam and myrrh.

I have tasted the comb with the honey,

And drunk of my wine and my milk.

Taste ye, my friends, and drink;

Yea, drink yourselves drunken, beloved.

The Bride tells her Tale

2 I slept, but my heart was awake.

O hark! my beloved is knocking.

"Open to me, my sister,

My dove, my beloved, all spotless.

For wet is my head with the dew,

And my locks with the drops of the night."

3 "I have laid my garment aside,

And why should I don it again?

My feet, too, I have washed,

And why should I soil them again?"

4 My love put his hand through the opening,

And moved was my heart for him.

5 So I rose to let in my darling:

My hands were dripping with myrrh,

With the myrrh that ran over my fingers

And on the catch of the bolt.

6 I opened the door to my love,

But my darling had turned and was gone;

And the soul of me sank, when he vanished.

I sought him, but all in vain:

I called, but he gave me no answer.

7 The watchmen were tramping the city;

They met me, they beat me and wounded me.

Those who kept watch on the walls

Seized the mantle that I had thrown over me.

8 I adjure you, ye maids of Jerusalem,

If so be ye find my beloved,

What, then, shall ye tell my beloved?

That faint with love am I.

9 "What is thy darling more than another,

O thou of women the fairest?

What is thy darling more than another,

That thou dost adjure us so?"

The Bride’s Praise of the Bridegroom

10 "My beloved is radiant and ruddy,

The chief among ten thousand

11 His head is finest gold;

His curls are as black as the raven.

12 His eyes are like doves

Over brooklets of water,

Or bathing in milk,

As they perch on the brink.

13 His cheeks are like beds of spices,

Like banks of sweet herbs.

His lips are like lilies – adrip

With their liquid myrrh.

14 His arms are like tapers of gold

That are inlaid with jasper;

His belly like ivory wrought

And encrusted with sapphires.

15 His legs are like pillars of marble

On sockets of gold.

He looks altogether like Lebanon,

Grand as the cedars.

16 Sweetness itself is his mouth;

He is all of him lovely.

Such is my love and my darling,

Ye maids of Jerusalem."

Conclusion

6 "Whither hath gone thy beloved,

O fairest of women?

Whiter hath turned thy beloved,

That with thee we may seek him?"

2 "My love is gone down to his garden,

The terrace of spices,

To pasture his flock in his garden,

To pasture his flock in his garden

And gather the lilies.

3 My beloved is mine, I am his,

’Mong the lilies he pastures."