Song of Songs 1

The Song of Songs, which is Solomon's.

Oh, that he would kiss me with the kisses of his mouth,

Your anointing oils have a delightful fragrance; your name is like flowing perfume, so the young women love you.

Take me with you, and we will run.

I am dark but lovely, you daughters of Jerusalem— dark like the tents of Kedar, lovely like the curtains of Solomon.

Do not stare at me because I am dark, because the sun has scorched me. My mother's sons were angry with me; they made me keeper of the vineyards, but my own vineyard I have not kept.

Tell me, you whom my soul loves, where do you feed your flock? Where do you rest your flock at noontime? Why should I be like someone who wanders beside the flocks of your companions?

If you do not know, most beautiful among women, follow the tracks of my flock, and pasture your young goats near the shepherds' tents.

I compare you, my love, to a mare among Pharaoh's chariot horses.

Your cheeks are beautiful with ornaments, your neck with strings of jewels.

We will make for you gold ornaments with silver studs.

While the king lay on his couch, my nard emitted its fragrance.

My beloved is to me like a bag of myrrh that spends the night lying between my breasts.

My beloved is to me like a cluster of henna flowers in the vineyards of En Gedi.

Listen, you are beautiful, my love; listen, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves.

Listen, you are handsome, my beloved, how handsome. The lush plants are our bed.

The beams of our house are cedars; our rafters are firs.