Song of Solomon 8

¹O that you were like a brother to me,

that nursed at my mother’s breast!

If I met you outside, I would kiss you,

and none would despise me.

²I would lead you and bring you

into the house of my mother,

and into the chamber of her that conceived me.

I would give you spiced wine to drink,

the juice of my pomegranates.

³O that his left hand were under my head,

and that his right hand embraced me!

⁴I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,

that you stir not up nor awaken love

until it please.

⁵Who is that coming up from the wilderness,

leaning upon her beloved?

Under the apple tree I awakened you.

There your mother was in travail with you,

there she who bore you was in travail.

⁶Set me as a seal upon your heart,

as a seal upon your arm;

for love is strong as death,

jealousy is cruel as the grave.

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

a most vehement flame.

⁷Many waters cannot quench love,

neither can floods drown it.

If a man offered for love

all the wealth of his house,

it would be utterly scorned.

⁸We have a little sister,

and she has no breasts.

What shall we do for our sister,

on the day when she is spoken for?

⁹If she is a wall,

we will build upon her a battlement of silver;

but if she is a door,

we will enclose her with boards of cedar.

¹⁰I was a wall,

and my breasts were like towers;

then I was in his eyes

as one who brings peace.

¹¹Solomon had a vineyard at Baʹal-haʹmon;

he let out the vineyard to keepers;

each one was to bring for its fruit a thousand pieces of silver.

¹²My vineyard, my very own, is for myself;

you, O Solomon, may have the thousand,

and the keepers of the fruit two hundred.

¹³O you who dwell in the gardens,

my companions are listening for your voice;

let me hear it.

¹⁴Make haste, my beloved,

and be like a gazelle

or a young stag

upon the mountains of spices.