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Song of Solomon 8 (GN)

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¹ I wish that you were my brother, that my mother had nursed you at her breast. Then, if I met you in the street, I could kiss you and no one would mind. ² I would take you to my mother's house, where you could teach me love. I would give you spiced wine, my pomegranate wine to drink. ³ Your left hand is under my head, and your right hand caresses me. ⁴ Promise me, women of Jerusalem, that you will not interrupt our love. ⁵ Who is this coming from the desert, arm in arm with her lover? Under the apple tree I woke you, in the place where you were born. ⁶ Close your heart to every love but mine; hold no one in your arms but me. Love is as powerful as death; passion is as strong as death itself. It bursts into flame and burns like a raging fire. ⁷ Water cannot put it out; no flood can drown it. But if any tried to buy love with their wealth, contempt is all they would get. ⁸ We have a young sister, and her breasts are still small. What will we do for her when a young man comes courting? ⁹ If she is a wall, we will build her a silver tower. But if she is a gate, we will protect her with panels of cedar. ¹⁰ I am a wall, and my breasts are its towers. My lover knows that with him I find contentment and peace. ¹¹ Solomon has a vineyard in a place called Baal Hamon. There are farmers who rent it from him; each one pays a thousand silver coins. ¹² Solomon is welcome to his thousand coins, and the farmers to two hundred as their share; I have a vineyard of my own! ¹³ Let me hear your voice from the garden, my love; my companions are waiting to hear you speak. ¹⁴ Come to me, my lover, like a gazelle, like a young stag on the mountains where spices grow.