Song of Solomon 8

₁Oh that you were like a brother to me

who nursed at my mother’s breasts!

If I found you outside, I would kiss you,

and none would despise me.

₂I would lead you and bring you

into the house of my mother—

she who used to teach me.

I would give you spiced wine to drink,

the juice of my pomegranate.

₃His left hand is under my head,

and his right hand embraces me!

₄I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,

that you not stir up or awaken love

until it pleases.

₅Who is that coming up from the wilderness,

leaning on her beloved?

Under the apple tree I awakened you.

There your mother was in labor with you;

there she who bore you was in labor.

₆Set me as a seal upon your heart,

as a seal upon your arm,

for love is strong as death,

jealousy is fierce as the grave.

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

the very flame of the Lord.

₇Many waters cannot quench love,

neither can floods drown it.

If a man offered for love

all the wealth of his house,

he would be utterly despised.

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 on 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 finds peace.

₁₁Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon;

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 before me;

you, O Solomon, may have the thousand,

and the keepers of the fruit two hundred.

₁₃O you who dwell in the gardens,

with companions listening for your voice;

let me hear it.

₁₄Make haste, my beloved,

and be like a gazelle

or a young stag

on the mountains of spices.