Song of Solomon 8

1If only you were like a brother to me, who nursed at my mother’s breasts! Then if I found you outside, I would kiss you, and no one would despise me.

2I would lead you and bring you into my mother’s house, and she would teach me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the juice of my pomegranates.

3His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me.

4I make you swear, daughters of Jerusalem: do not stir up or awaken love until it pleases.

5Who is this 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 over your heart, as a seal on your arm; for love is strong as death, jealousy as unyielding as Sheol. Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of Yah.

7Many waters cannot quench love, and rivers cannot sweep it away. If someone offered all the wealth of his house for love, he would be utterly scorned.

8We have a little sister, and she has no breasts yet. What will we do for our sister on the day she is spoken for?

9If she is a wall, we will build a battlement of silver on her; but if she is a door, we will enclose her with boards of cedar.

10I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers; so in his eyes I became like one who has found peace.

11Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon; he leased the vineyard to keepers; each one was to bring a thousand pieces of silver for its fruit.

12My vineyard, my very own, is before me; the thousand are yours, Solomon, and two hundred are for those who keep its fruit.

13You who dwell in the gardens, with companions listening for your voice, let me hear it.

14Hurry away, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.