Song of Solomon 8

1Oh, that you were like a brother to me, who nursed at my mother’s breasts! 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, where you would teach me; I would give you spiced wine to drink, from the juice of my pomegranate.

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

4I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem: why should you awaken or stir up love until it desires?

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 upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is as strong as death, jealousy as relentless as Sheol. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a flame of Yah.

7Many waters cannot quench love, nor can rivers sweep it away. If a man were to give all the wealth of his house for love, he would be utterly despised.

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

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

10I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers; then I was in his eyes like one who finds peace.

11Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon; he gave 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 is for you, Solomon, and two hundred for those who keep its fruit.

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

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