Song of Solomon 1:5–8

I am very dark, but lovely,

O daughters of Jerusalem,

like the tents of Kedar,

like the curtains of Solomon.

Do not gaze at me because I am dark,

because the sun has looked upon me.

My mother’s sons were angry with me;

they made me keeper of the vineyards,

but my own vineyard I have not kept!

Tell me, you whom my soul loves,

where you pasture your flock,

where you make it lie down at noon;

for why should I be like one who veils herself

beside the flocks of your companions?

If you do not know,

O most beautiful among women,

follow in the tracks of the flock,

and pasture your young goats

beside the shepherds’ tents.

Dark am I, yet lovely,

daughters of Jerusalem,

dark like the tents of Kedar,

like the tent curtains of Solomon.

Do not stare at me because I am dark,

because I am darkened by the sun.

My mother’s sons were angry with me

and made me take care of the vineyards;

my own vineyard I had to neglect.

Tell me, you whom I love,

where you graze your flock

and where you rest your sheep at midday.

Why should I be like a veiled woman

beside the flocks of your friends?

If you do not know, most beautiful of women,

follow the tracks of the sheep

and graze your young goats

by the tents of the shepherds.

Daughters of Jerusalem,

I am dark like the tents of Kedar,

yet lovely like the curtains of Solomon.

Do not stare at me because I am dark,

for the sun has gazed on me.

My mother’s sons were angry with me;

they made me take care of the vineyards.

I have not taken care of my own vineyard.

Tell me, you whom I love:

Where do you pasture your sheep?

Where do you let them rest at noon?

Why should I be like one who veils herself

beside the flocks of your companions?

If you do not know,

most beautiful of women,

follow the tracks of the flock,

and pasture your young goats

near the shepherds’ tents.

I am dark but beautiful,

O women of Jerusalem—

dark as the tents of Kedar,

dark as the curtains of Solomon’s tents.

Don’t stare at me because I am dark—

the sun has darkened my skin.

My brothers were angry with me;

they forced me to care for their vineyards,

so I couldn’t care for myself—my own vineyard.

Tell me, my love, where are you leading your flock today?

Where will you rest your sheep at noon?

For why should I wander like a prostitute

among your friends and their flocks?

If you don’t know, O most beautiful woman,

follow the trail of my flock,

and graze your young goats by the shepherds’ tents.

I am black but beautiful, O maidens of Jerusalem,

like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon.

Do not gaze at me because I am black,

because the sun has stared at me.

The sons of my mother were angry with me;

they made me keeper of the vineyards,

but my own “vineyard” I did not keep.

Tell me, you whom my heart loves,

where do you pasture your flock,

where do your sheep lie down at the noon?

For why should I be like one who is veiled

beside the flocks of your companions?

If you do not know, O fairest among women,

follow the tracks of the flock,

and pasture your little lambs beside the tents of the shepherds.

I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem,

As the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.

Look not upon me, because I am black,

Because the sun hath looked upon me:

My mother’s children were angry with me;

They made me the keeper of the vineyards;

But mine own vineyard have I not kept.

Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth,

Where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon:

For why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?

If thou know not, O thou fairest among women,

Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock,

And feed thy kids beside the shepherds’ tents.