Song of Songs.
Chapter 8.
If you were a baby, like my little brother nursing at his mother’s breasts, and if I found you outside, I could kiss you, and no one would say it was wrong. 
I would lead you into my mother’s house, to the room of she who taught me. I would give you spiced wine squeezed from my pomegranate. 
His left arm is under my head, and his right hand holds me. 
Women of Jerusalem, promise me, don’t awaken love, don’t arouse love, until I am ready. 
Who is this woman coming from the desert, leaning on her lover? I woke you under the apple tree, where your mother gave birth to you, where you were born. 
Keep me near you like a seal you wear over your heart, like a signet ring you wear on your hand. Love is as strong as death. Passion is as strong as the grave. Its sparks become a flame, and it grows to become a great fire! 
A flood cannot put out love. Rivers cannot drown love. Would people despise a man for giving everything he owns for love? 
We have a little sister, and her breasts are not yet grown. What should we do for our sister when a man comes asking to marry her? 
If she were a wall, we would put silver trim around her. If she were a door, we would put a cedar board around her. 
I am a wall, and my breasts are my towers. And he is satisfied with me! 
Solomon had a vineyard at Baal Hamon. He put men in charge of the vineyard. Each man brought in grapes worth 1000 shekels of silver. 
Solomon, you can keep your 1000 shekels. Give 200 shekels to each man for the grapes he brought. But I will keep my own vineyard. 
There you are, sitting in the garden. Friends are listening to your voice. Let me hear it too! 
Hurry, my lover! Be like a gazelle or a young deer on the mountains of spice. 
