Song of Songs 1 · שיר השירים

The song of songs, which is Shelomo’s.

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.

Thy ointments are fragrant; for thy flowing oil thou art renowned: therefore do the virgins love thee.

Draw me, we will run after thee: the king has brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will praise thy love more than wine: sincerely they love thee.

I am black, but comely, O daughters of Yerushalayim, like the tents of Qedar, like the curtains of Shelomo.

Do not gaze upon me, because I am black, because the sun has scorched me: my mother’s children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but my own vineyard I have not kept.

Tell me, O thou whom my soul loves, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be like one who cloaks himself 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 besides the shepherds’ tents.

I compare thee, O my love, to a mare of the chariots of Par῾o.

Thy cheeks would be comely with rows of jewels, thy neck with strings of beads.

We will make thee necklets of gold studded with silver.

While the king was reclining at his board, my nard sent forth its fragrance.

My wellbeloved is to me a bundle of myrrh that lies between my breasts.

My beloved is to me a cluster of henna in the vineyards of ῾En-gedi.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves’ eyes.

Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: also our couch is green.

The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters are of cypress.