Song of Solomon 8:1-4
The Message
8 1-2 I wish you’d been my twin brother,
sharing with me the breasts of my mother,
Playing outside in the street,
kissing in plain view of everyone,
and no one thinking anything of it.
I’d take you by the hand and bring you home
where I was raised by my mother.
You’d drink my wine
and kiss my cheeks.
3-4 Imagine! His left hand cradling my head,
his right arm around my waist!
Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem:
Don’t excite love, don’t stir it up,
until the time is ripe—and you’re ready.
Song of Songs 8:1-3
New International Version
8 If only you were to me like a brother,
who was nursed at my mother’s breasts!
Then, if I found you outside,
I would kiss you,
and no one would despise me.
2 I would lead you
and bring you to my mother’s house(A)—
she who has taught me.
I would give you spiced wine to drink,
the nectar of my pomegranates.
3 His left arm is under my head
and his right arm embraces me.(B)
Copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson
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