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Chapter
One
Let him kiss me
with the kiss of his mouth: for thy breasts are better than wine, smelling
sweet of the best ointments. Thy name is as oil poured out: therefore young
maidens have loved thee. Draw me: we will run after thee to the odour of
thy ointments. The king hath brought me into his storerooms: we will be glad
and rejoice in thee, remembering thy breasts more than wine: the righteous
love thee.
I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Cedar,
as the curtains of Solomon. Do not consider me that I am brown, because the
sun hath altered my colour: the sons of my mother have fought against me,
they have made me the keeper in the vineyards: my vineyard I have not kept.
Shew me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou liest
in the midday, lest I begin to wander after the flocks of thy companions.
If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth, and follow after
the steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the tents of the shepherds.
To my company of horsemen, in Pharao's chariots, have I likened thee, O my
love. Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtledove's, thy neck as jewels. We
will make thee chains of gold, inlaid with silver. While the king was at
his repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof. A bundle of myrrh
is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts. A cluster of cypress
my love is to me, in the vineyards of Engaddi. Behold thou art fair, O my
love, behold thou art fair, thy eyes are as those of doves. Behold thou art
fair, my beloved, and comely.
Our bed is flourishing.The beams of our houses are of cedar, our rafters
of cypress trees.
Chapter Two
I am the flower
of the field, and the lily of the valleys. As the lily among thorns, so is
my love among the daughters.
As the apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my beloved among the
sons. I sat down under his shadow, whom I desired: and his fruit was sweet
to my palate. He brought me into the cellar of wine, he set in order charity
in me. Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples: because I languish
with love. His left hand is under my head, and his right hand shall embrace
me.
I adjure you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and the harts of
the, fields, that you stir not up, nor make the beloved to awake, till she
please.
The voice of my beloved, behold he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping
over the hills. My beloved is like a roe, or a young hart. Behold he standeth
behind our wall, looking through the windows, looking through the lattices.
Behold my beloved speaketh to me: Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my
beautiful one, and come. For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone.
The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the voice
of the turtle is heard in our land: The fig tree hath put forth her green
figs: the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my beautiful
one, and come: My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of
the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice
is sweet, and thy face comely. Catch us the little foxes that destroy the
vines: for our vineyard hath flourished. My beloved to me, and I to him who
feedeth among the lilies, till the day break, and the shadows retire. Return:
be like, my beloved, to a roe, or to a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.
Chapter Three
In my bed by night
I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, and found him not. I will
rise, and will go about the city: in the streets and the broad ways I will
seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, and I found him not. The watchmen
who keep the city, found me: Have you seen him, whom my soul loveth? When
I had a little passed by them, I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him:
and I will not let him go, till I bring him into my mother's house, and into
the chamber of her that bore me.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and the harts of the
fields, that you stir not up, nor awake my beloved, till she please. Who
is she that goeth up by the desert, as a pillar of smoke of aromatical spices,
of myrrh, and frankincense, and of all the powders of the perfumer? Behold
threescore valiant ones of the most valiant of Israel, surrounded the bed
of Solomon? All holding swords, and most expert in war: every man's sword
upon his thigh, because of fears in the night.
King Solomon hath made him a litter of the wood of Libanus: The pillars thereof
he made of silver, the seat of gold, the going up of purple: the midst he
covered with charity for the daughters of Jerusalem. Go forth, ye daughters
of Sion, and see king Solomon in the diadem, wherewith his mother crowned
him in the day of his espousals, and in the day of the joy of his heart.
Chapter Four
How beautiful art
thou, my love, how beautiful art thou! thy eyes are doves' eyes, besides
what is hid within. Thy hair is as flocks of goats, which Come up from mount
Galaad. Thy teeth as flocks of sheep, that are shorn which come up from the
washing, all with twins, and there is none barren among them. Thy lips are
as a scarlet lace: and thy speech sweet. Thy cheeks are as a piece of a
pomegranate, besides that which lieth hid within. Thy neck, is as the tower
of David, which is built with bulwarks: a thousand bucklers hang upon it,
all the armour of valiant men. Thy two breasts like two young roes that are
twins, which feed among the lilies. Till the day break, and the shadows retire,
I will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee. Come from
Libanus, my spouse, come from Libanus, come: thou shalt be crowned from the
top of Amana, from the top of Sanir and Hermon, from the dens of the lions,
from the mountains of the leopards. Thou hast wounded my heart, my sister,
my spouse, thou hast wounded my heart with one of thy eyes, and with one
hair of thy neck. How beautiful are thy breasts, my sister, my spouse! thy
breasts are more beautiful than wine, and the sweet smell of thy ointments
above all aromatical spices. Thy lips, my spouse, are as a dropping honeycomb,
honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments, as the
smell of frankincense.
My sister, my spouse, is a garden enclosed, a garden enclosed, a fountain
sealed up. Thy plants are a paradise of pomegranates with the fruits of the
orchard. Cypress with spikenard. Spikenard and saffron, sweet cane and cinnamon,
with all the trees of Libanus, myrrh and aloes with all the chief perfumes.
The fountain of gardens: the well of living waters, which run with a strong
stream from Libanus. Arise, O north wind, and come, O south wind, blow through
my garden, and let the aromatical spices thereof flow.
Chapter Five
Let my beloved
come into his garden, and eat the fruit of his apple trees.
I am come into my garden, O my sister, my spouse, I have gathered my myrrh,
with my aromatical spices: I have eaten the honeycomb with my honey, I have
drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends, and drink, and be inebriated,
my dearly beloved. I sleep, and my heart watcheth; the voice of my beloved
knocking: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head
is full of dew, and my locks of the drops of the nights. I have put off my
garment, how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile
them?
My beloved put his hand through the key hole, and my bowels were moved at
his touch. I arose up to open to my beloved: my hands dropped with myrrh,
and my fingers were full of the choicest myrrh. I opened the bolt of my door
to my beloved: but he had turned aside, and was gone. My soul melted when
he spoke: I sought him, and found him not: I called, and he did not answer
me. The keepers that go about the city found me: they struck me: and wounded
me: the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me. I adjure you, O daughters
of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him that I languish with
love.
What manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, O thou most beautiful among
women? what manner of one is thy beloved of the beloved, that thou hast so
adjured us? My beloved is white and ruddy, chosen out of thousands. His head
is as the finest gold: his locks as branches of palm trees, black as a raven.
His eyes as doves upon brooks of waters, which are washed with milk, and
sit beside the plentiful streams. His cheeks are as beds of aromatical spices
set by the perfumers. His lips are as lilies dropping choice myrrh. His hands
are turned and as of gold, full of hyacinths. His belly as of ivory, set
with sapphires. His legs as pillars of marble, that are set upon bases of
gold. His form as of Libanus, excellent as the cedars. His throat most sweet,
and he is all lovely: such is my beloved, and he is my friend, O ye daughters
of Jerusalem.
Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou most beautiful among women? whither is
thy beloved turned aside, and we will seek him with thee?
Chapter Six
My beloved is gone
down into his garden, to the bed of aromatical spices, to feed in the gardens,
and to gather lilies. I to my beloved, and my beloved to me, who feedeth
among the lilies. Thou art beautiful, O my love, sweet and comely as Jerusalem:
terrible as an army set in array. Turn away thy eyes from me, for they have
made me flee away. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from Galaad.
Thy teeth as a flock of sheep, which come up from the washing, all with twins,
and there is none barren among them. Thy cheeks are as the bark of a pomegranate,
beside what is hidden within thee.
There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and young maidens
without number. One is my dove, my perfect one is but one, she is the only
one of her mother, the chosen of her that bore her. The daughters saw her,
and declared her most blessed: the queens and concubines, and they praised
her. Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon,
bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in array?
I went down into the garden of nuts, to see the fruits of the valleys, and
to look if the vineyard had flourished, and the pomegranates budded. I knew
not: my soul troubled me for the chariots of Aminadab. Return, return, O
Sulamitess: return, return that we may behold thee.
Chapter Seven
What shalt thou
see in the Sulamitess but the companies of camps? How beautiful are thy steps
in shoes, O prince's daughter! The joints of thy thighs are like jewels,
that are made by the hand of a skillful workman. Thy navel is like a round
bowl never wanting cups. Thy belly is like a heap of wheat, set about with
lilies. Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins. Thy neck
as a tower of ivory. Thy eyes like the fishpools in Hesebon, which are in
the gate of the daughter of the multitude. Thy nose is as the tower of Libanus,
that looketh toward Damascus. Thy head is like Carmel: and the hairs of thy
head as the purple of the king bound in the channels.
How beautiful art thou, and how comely, my dearest, in delights! Thy stature
is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes. I said: I
will go up into the palm tree, and will take hold of the fruit thereof: and
thy breasts shall be as the clusters of the vine: and the odour of thy mouth
like apples. Thy throat like the best wine, worthy for my beloved to drink,
and for his lips and his teeth to ruminate.
I to my beloved, and his turning is towards me. Come, my beloved, let us
go forth into the field, let us abide in the villages. Let us get up early
to the vineyards, let us see if the vineyard flourish, if the flowers be
ready to bring forth fruits, if the pomegranates flourish: there will I give
thee my breasts. The mandrakes give a smell. In our gates are all fruits:
the new and the old, my beloved, I have kept for thee.
Chapter Eight
Who shall give
thee to me for my brother, sucking the breasts of my mother, that I may find
thee without, and kiss thee, and now no man may despise me? I will take hold
of thee, and bring thee into my mother's house: there thou shalt teach me,
and I will give thee a cup of spiced wine and new wine of my pomegranates.
His left hand under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up, nor awake my
love till she please. Who is this that cometh up from the desert, flowing
with delights, leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple tree I raised thee
up: there thy mother was corrupted, there she was deflowered that bore thee.
Put me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm, for love is strong
as death, jealousy as hard as hell, the lamps thereof are fire and flames.
Many waters cannot quench charity, neither can the floods drown it: if a
man should give all the substance of his house for love, he shall despise
it as nothing.
Our sister is little, and hath no breasts. What shall we do to our sister
in the day when she is to be spoken to? If she be a wall: let us build upon
it bulwarks of silver: if she be a door, let us join it together with boards
or cedar. I am a wall: and my breasts are as a tower since I am become in
his presence as one finding peace.
The peaceable had a vineyard, in that which hath people: he let out the same
to keepers, every man bringeth for the fruit thereof a thousand pieces of
silver. My vineyard is before me. A thousand are for thee, the peaceable,
and two hundred for them that keep the fruit thereof. Thou that dwellest
in the gardens, the friends hearken: make me hear thy voice. Flee away, O
my beloved, and be like to the roe, and to the young hart upon the mountains
of aromatical spices. |
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