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She
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth— for your love is more delightful than wine.
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Take me away with you—let us hurry! Let the king bring me into his chambers.
Friends
We rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine. She
How right they are to adore you!
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She
Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my beloved among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste.
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Let him lead me to the banquet hall, and let his banner over me be love.
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His left arm is under my head, and his right arm embraces me.
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Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you by the gazelles and by the does of the field: Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.
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Listen! My beloved! Look! Here he comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills.
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He
My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
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Scarcely had I passed them when I found the one my heart loves. I held him and would not let him go till I had brought him to my mother’s house, to the room of the one who conceived me.
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Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you by the gazelles and by the does of the field: Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.
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King Solomon made for himself the carriage; he made it of wood from Lebanon.
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He
How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are doves. Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from the hills of Gilead.
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Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon. Descend from the crest of Amana, from the top of Senir, the summit of Hermon, from the lions’ dens and the mountain haunts of leopards.
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How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much more pleasing is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume more than any spice!
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Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue. The fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
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You are a garden fountain, a well of flowing water streaming down from Lebanon.
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She
Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread everywhere. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits.
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She
I slept but my heart was awake. Listen! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”
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I opened for my beloved, but my beloved had left; he was gone. My heart sank at his departure. I looked for him but did not find him. I called him but he did not answer.
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His arms are rods of gold set with topaz. His body is like polished ivory decorated with lapis lazuli.
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His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.
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Turn your eyes from me; they overwhelm me. Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Gilead.
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Before I realized it, my desire set me among the royal chariots of my people.
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How beautiful your sandaled feet, O prince’s daughter! Your graceful legs are like jewels, the work of an artist’s hands.
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Your neck is like an ivory tower. Your eyes are the pools of Heshbon by the gate of Bath Rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon looking toward Damascus.
