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She
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth— for your love is more delightful than wine.
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Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out. No wonder the young women love you!
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Tell me, you whom I love, where you graze your flock and where you rest your sheep at midday. Why should I be like a veiled woman beside the flocks of your friends?
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My beloved is to me a sachet of myrrh resting between my breasts.
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My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms from the vineyards of En Gedi.
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She
How handsome you are, my beloved! Oh, how charming! And our bed is verdant.
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He
Like a lily among thorns is my darling among the young women.
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She
Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my beloved among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste.
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Let him lead me to the banquet hall, and let his banner over me be love.
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His left arm is under my head, and his right arm embraces me.
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My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice.
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See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone.
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Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land.
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He
My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
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She
My beloved is mine and I am his; he browses among the lilies.
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All night long on my bed I looked for the one my heart loves; I looked for him but did not find him.
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I will get up now and go about the city, through its streets and squares; I will search for the one my heart loves. So I looked for him but did not find him.
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Scarcely had I passed them when I found the one my heart loves. I held him and would not let him go till I had brought him to my mother’s house, to the room of the one who conceived me.
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Who is this coming up from the wilderness like a column of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and incense made from all the spices of the merchant?
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Look! It is Solomon’s carriage, escorted by sixty warriors, the noblest of Israel,
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King Solomon made for himself the carriage; he made it of wood from Lebanon.
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come out, and look, you daughters of Zion. Look on King Solomon wearing a crown, the crown with which his mother crowned him on the day of his wedding, the day his heart rejoiced.
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He
How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are doves. Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from the hills of Gilead.
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Your teeth are like a flock of sheep just shorn, coming up from the washing. Each has its twin; not one of them is alone.
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Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon; your mouth is lovely. Your temples behind your veil are like the halves of a pomegranate.
