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Solomon's Song



The Song of Songs, Which is Solomon's

Chapter 1

1 The Song of songs, which is Solomon's.

2 Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your love is better than wine.

3 Your oils have a goodly fragrance, your name is as oil poured forth, therefore do the virgins love you.

4 Draw me, we will run after you. The king has brought me into his chambers. We will be glad and rejoice in you, we will make mention of your love more than of wine. Rightly do they love you.

5 I am black, but comely, Oh you daughters of Yerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.

6 Do not look upon me, because I am swarthy. Because the sun has scorched me. My mother's sons were incensed against me, they made me keeper of the vineyards, but my own vineyard I have not kept.

7 Tell me, O you whom my soul loves: Where you feed your flock, where you make it to rest at noon? For why should I be as one that is veiled beside the flocks of your companions?

8 If you do not know, O you fairest among women, go your way forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed your kids beside the shepherds' tents.

9 I have compared you, O my love, to a steed in Pharaoh's chariots.

10 Your cheeks are comely with plaits of hair, your neck with strings of jewels.

11 We will make you plaits of gold with studs of silver.

12 While the king sat at his table, my spikenard sent forth its fragrance.

13 My beloved is unto me as a bundle of myrrh that lies between my breasts.

14 My beloved is unto me as a cluster of henna-flowers in the vineyards of En-gedi.

15 Behold, you are fair, my love. Behold you are fair, your eyes are as doves.

16 Behold, you are fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant. Also our couch is green.

17 The beams of our house are cedars, and our rafters are firs.

Chapter 2

1 I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.

2 As a lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

3 As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.

4 He brought me to the banqueting-house, and his banner over me was love.

5 Stay me with raisins, refresh me with apples, for I am sick from love.

6 His left hand is under my head, and his right hand does embrace me.

7 I adjure you, O daughters of Yerusalem, by the roes, or by the hinds of the field, that you do not stir up, nor awake my love, until he please.

8 The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.

9 My beloved is like a roe or a young hart. Behold, he stands behind our wall, he looks in at the windows, he glances through the lattice.

10 My beloved spoke, and said unto me: Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.

11 Lo, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.

12 The flowers appear on the earth. The time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land.

13 The fig-tree ripens her green figs, and the vines are in blossom. They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

14 O my dove, that are in the clefts of the rock, in the cover of the steep place, let me see your countenance. Let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet, and your countenance is comely.

15 Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vineyards. For our vineyards are in blossom.

16 My beloved is mine, and I am his. He feeds his flock among the lilies

17 until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away. Turn, my beloved, and be like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.

Chapter 3

1 By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loves. I sought him, but I did not find him.

2 I said: I will rise now, and go about the city. In the streets and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loves. I sought him, but I did not find him.

3 The watchmen that go about the city found me, to whom I said: Did you see him whom my soul loves?

4 It was but a little that I passed from them, when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.

5 I adjure you, O daughters of Yerusalem, by the roes, or by the hinds of the field, that you do not stir up, nor awake my love, until he please.

6 Who is this that comes up from the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all powders of the merchant?

7 Behold, it is the litter of Solomon. Threescore mighty men are about it, of the mighty men of Yisrayah.

8 They all handle the sword, and are expert in war. Every man has his sword upon his thigh, because of fear in the night.

9 King Solomon made himself a palanquin of the wood of Lebanon.

10 He made the pillars thereof of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the seat of it of purple, the midst thereof being paved with love from the daughters of Yerusalem.

11 Go forth, O you daughters of Zion, and behold king Solomon. With the crown wherewith his mother has crowned him, in the day of his espousals, and in the day of the gladness of his heart.

Chapter 4

1 Behold, you are fair, my love. Behold, you are fair. Your eyes are as doves behind your veil. Your hair is as a flock of goats, that lie along the side of mount Gilead.

2 Your teeth are like a flock of ewes that are newly shorn, which are come up from the washing (whereof everyone has twins, and none is bereaved among them).

3 Your lips are like a thread of scarlet, and your mouth is comely. Your temples are like a piece of a pomegranate behind your veil.

4 Your neck is like the tower of David built for an armory, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all the shields of the mighty men.

5 Your two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a roe, which feed among the lilies.

6 Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.

7 You are all fair, my love, and there is no spot in you.

8 Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, with me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Senir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.

9 You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride. You have ravished my heart with one of your eyes, with one chain of your neck.

10 How fair is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine! And the fragrance of your oils than all manner of spices!

11 Your lips, O my bride, drop as the honeycomb. Honey and milk are under your tongue, and the smell of your garments is like the smell of Lebanon.

12 A garden shut up is my sister, my bride. A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.

13 Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits; Henna with spikenard plants,

14 Spikenard and saffron, Calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; Myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices.

15 You are a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and flowing streams from Lebanon.

16 Awake, O north wind. And come, you south. Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his precious fruits.

Chapter 5

1 I am come into my garden, my sister, my bride. I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey. I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends. Drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.

2 I was asleep, but my heart waked. It is the voice of my beloved that knocks, saying: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled. For my head is filled with dew, my locks with the drops of the night.

3 I have put off my garment, how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet, how shall I defile them?

4 My beloved put in his hand by the hole of the door, and my heart was moved for him.

5 I rose up to open to my beloved. My hands drops with myrrh, and my fingers with liquid myrrh, upon the handles of the bolt.

6 I opened to my beloved. But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone. My soul had failed me when he spoke. I sought him, but I could not find him. I called him, but he gave me no answer.

7 The watchmen that go about the city found me. They smote me, they wounded me. The keepers of the walls took away my mantle from me.

8 I adjure you, O daughters of Yerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him: I am sick from love.

9 What is your beloved more than another beloved, O you fairest among women? What is your beloved more than another beloved, that you do so adjure us?

10 My beloved is white and ruddy, the chief among ten thousand.

11 His head is as the most fine gold. His locks are bushy, and black as a raven.

12 His eyes are like doves beside the water-brooks, washed with milk, and fitly set.

13 His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as banks of sweet herbs. His lips are as lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.

14 His hands are as rings of gold set with beryl. His body is as ivory work overlaid with sapphires.

15 His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold. His aspect is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.

16 His mouth is most sweet. Yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Yerusalem.

Chapter 6

1 Where is your beloved gone, O you fairest among women? Where has your beloved turned him, that we may seek him with you?

2 My beloved is gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

3 I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine. He feeds his flock among the lilies.

4 You are fair, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Yerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.

5 Turn away your eyes from me, for they have overcome me. Your hair is as a flock of goats, that lie along the side of Gilead.

6 Your teeth are like a flock of ewes, which are come up from the washing (whereof everyone has twins, and none is bereaved among them).

7 Your temples are like a piece of a pomegranate behind your veil.

8 There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and virgins without number.

9 My dove, my undefiled, is but one. She is the only one of her mother. She is the choice one of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and called her blessed. Yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.

10 Who is she that looks forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, terrible as an army with banners?

11 I went down into the garden of nuts, to see the green plants of the valley. To see whether the vine budded, and the pomegranates were in flower.

12 Before I was aware, my soul set me among the chariots of my princely people.

13 Return, return, O Shulammite. Return, return, that we may look upon you. Why will you look upon the Shulammite, as upon the dance of Mahanaim?

Chapter 7

1 How beautiful are your feet in sandals, O prince's daughter! Your rounded thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a skilful workman.

2 Your body is like a round goblet, wherein no mingled wine is wanting. Your waist is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.

3 Your two breasts are like two fawns that are twins of a roe.

4 Your neck is like the tower of ivory. Your eyes as the pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, which looks toward Damascus.

5 Your head upon you is like Carmel. And the hair of your head like purple, the king is held captive in the tresses thereof.

6 How fair and how pleasant are you, O love, for delights!

7 This your stature is like to a palm-tree, and your breasts to its clusters.

8 I said: I will climb up into the palm-tree, I will take hold of the branches thereof. Let your breasts be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of your breath like apples,

9 and your mouth like the best wine, that goes down smoothly for my beloved. Gliding through the lips of those that are asleep.

10 I am my beloved's. And his desire is toward me.

11 Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field. Let us lodge in the villages.

12 Let us get up early to the vineyards. Let us see whether the vine has budded, and its blossom is open, and the pomegranates are in flower. There I will give you my love.

13 The mandrakes give forth fragrance. At our doors are all manner of precious fruits, new and old, which I have laid up for you, O my beloved.

Chapter 8

1 Oh that you were as my brother, that sucked the breasts of my mother! When I should find you without, I would kiss you. Yea, and none would despise me.

2 I would lead you, and bring you into my mother's house, who would instruct me. I would cause you to drink of spiced wine, of the juice of my pomegranate.

3 His left hand should be under my head, and his right hand should embrace me.

4 I adjure you, O daughters of Yerusalem, that you do not stir up, nor awake my love, until he please.

5 Who is this that comes up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple-tree I awakened you. There your mother was in travail with you, there was she in travail that brought you forth.

6 Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm. For love is strong as death. Jealousy is cruel as Sheol. The flashes thereof are flashes of fire, a very flame of Yah.

7 Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, he would utterly be contemned.

8 We have a little sister, and she has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister in the day when she shall be spoken for?

9 If she be a wall, we will build upon her a turret of silver. And if she be a door, we will inclose her with boards of cedar.

10 I am a wall, and my breasts like the towers thereof. Then I was in his eyes as one that found peace.

11 Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon. He let out the vineyard unto keepers. Every one for the fruit thereof was to bring a thousand pieces of silver.

12 My vineyard, which is mine, is before me. You, O Solomon, shall have the thousand, and those that keep the fruit thereof two hundred.

13 You that dwell in the gardens, the companions hearken for your voice. Cause me to hear it.

14 Make haste, my beloved, and be like to a roe or to a young hart, upon the mountains of spices.








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