Oh, that you would kiss me with the kisses of your mouth! For your love is better than wine,
Your anointing oils are fragrant, your name is oil poured out;
Therefore the maidens love you… Draw me after you. Let us make haste…

How sweet is your love, my sister, my bride! How much better is your love than wine,
And the fragrance of your oils than any spice!
Your lips distill nectar, my bride; honey and milk are under your tongue…

I slept, but my heart was awake. Hark! My beloved is knocking.
“Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one:
for my head is wet with dew, my locks with the crops of the night.”
I had put off my garment, How could I put it on?
I had bathed my feet, How could I soil them?
My beloved put his hand to the latch, and my heart was thrilled within me
I arose to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh,
My fingers with liquid myrrh…

How fair and pleasant you are, O loved one, delectable maiden!
You are stately as a palm tree, and your breasts are like its clusters.
I say I will climb the palm tree, and lay hold of its branches,
Oh, may your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the scent of your breath like apples,
And your kisses like the best wine that goes down smoothly,
Gliding over lips and teeth….

Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm;
For love is strong as death,
Jealousy as cruel as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire, a most vehement flame.
Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.

Make haste, my beloved, and be like a gazelle
Or a young stag upon the mountains of spices…