Song of Solomon 8

8I wish you were like my brother

who fed at my mother’s breasts.

If I found you outside,

I would kiss you,

and no one would look down on me.

²I would lead you and bring you

to my mother’s house;

she is the one who taught me.

I would give you a drink of spiced wine

from my pomegranates.

The Woman Speaks to the Friends

³My lover’s left hand is under my head,

and his right arm holds me tight.

⁴Women of Jerusalem,

promise not to awaken

or excite my feelings of love

until it is ready.

The Friends Speak

⁵Who is this coming out of the desert,

leaning on her lover?

The Man Speaks to the Woman

I woke you under the apple tree

where you were born;

there your mother gave birth to you.

⁶Put me like a seal on your heart,

like a seal on your arm.

Love is as strong as death;

jealousy is as strong as the grave.

Love bursts into flames

and burns like a hot fire.

⁷Even much water cannot put out the flame of love;

floods cannot drown love.

If a man offered everything in his house for love,

people would totally reject it.

The Woman’s Brothers Speak

⁸We have a little sister,

and her breasts are not yet grown.

What should we do for our sister

on the day she becomes engaged?

⁹If she is a wall,

we will put silver towers on her.

If she is a door,

we will protect her with cedar boards.

The Woman Speaks

¹⁰I am a wall,

and my breasts are like towers.

So I was to him,

as one who brings happiness.

¹¹Solomon had a vineyard at Baal Hamon.

He rented the vineyards for others to tend,

and everyone who rented had to pay

twenty-five pounds of silver for the fruit.

¹²But my own vineyard is mine to give.

Solomon, the twenty-five pounds of silver are for you,

and five pounds are for those who tend the fruit.

The Man Speaks to the Woman

¹³You who live in the gardens,

my friends are listening for your voice;

let me hear it.

The Woman Speaks to the Man

¹⁴Hurry, my lover,

be like a gazelle

or a young deer

on the mountains where spices grow.