Song of Solomon 1

1The song of Songs, which is Solomon's.

1Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth: for thy breasts are better than wine,

1The Song of songs, which is Solomon’s.

2Let him give me the kisses of his mouth: for his love is better than wine.

2Smelling sweet of the best ointments. Thy name is as oil poured out: therefore young maidens have loved thee.

2Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth; For thy love is better than wine.

3Sweet is the smell of your perfumes; your name is as perfume running out; so the young girls give you their love.

3Draw me: we will run after thee to the odour of thy ointments. The king hath brought me into his storerooms: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, remembering thy breasts more than wine: the rightous love thee.

3Thine oils have a goodly fragrance; Thy name is as oil poured forth; Therefore do the virgins love thee.

4Take me to you, and we will go after you: the king has taken me into his house. We will be glad and full of joy in you, we will give more thought to your love than to wine: rightly are they your lovers.

4I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon.

4Draw me; we will run after thee: The king hath brought me into his chambers; We will be glad and rejoice in thee; We will make mention of thy love more than of wine: Rightly do they love thee.

5I am dark, but fair of form, O daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.

5Do not consider me that I am brown, because the sun hath altered my colour: the sons of my mother have fought against me, they have made me the keeper in the vineyards: my vineyard I have not kept.

5I am black, but comely, Oh ye daughters of Jerusalem, As the tents of Kedar, As the curtains of Solomon.

6Let not your eyes be turned on me, because I am dark, because I was looked on by the sun; my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vine-gardens; but my vine-garden I have not kept.

6Shew me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou liest in the midday, lest I begin to wander after the flocks of thy companions.

6Look not upon me, because I am swarthy, Because the sun hath scorched me. My mother’s sons were incensed against me; They made me keeper of the vineyards; But mine own vineyard have I not kept.

7Say, O love of my soul, where you give food to your flock, and where you make them take their rest in the heat of the day; why have I to be as one wandering by the flocks of your friends?

7If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth, and follow after the steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the tents of the shepherds.

7Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, Where thou feedest thy flock, Where thou makest it to rest at noon: For why should I be as one that is veiled Beside the flocks of thy companions?

8If you have not knowledge, O most beautiful among women, go on your way in the footsteps of the flock, and give your young goats food by the tents of the keepers.

8To my company of horsemen, in Pharao's chariots, have I likened thee, O my love.

8If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, Go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, And feed thy kids beside the shepherds’ tents.

9I have made a comparison of you, O my love, to a horse in Pharaoh's carriages.

9Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtledove's, thy neck as jewels.

9I have compared thee, O my love, To a steed in Pharaoh’s chariots.

10Your face is a delight with rings of hair, your neck with chains of jewels.

10We will make thee chains of gold, inlaid with silver.

10Thy cheeks are comely with plaits of hair, Thy neck with strings of jewels.

11We will make you chains of gold with ornaments of silver.

11While the king was at his repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof.

11We will make thee plaits of gold With studs of silver.

12While the king is seated at his table, my spices send out their perfume.

12A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts.

12While the king sat at his table, My spikenard sent forth its fragrance.

13As a bag of myrrh is my well-loved one to me, when he is at rest all night between my breasts.

13A cluster of cypress my love is to me, in the vineyards of Engaddi.

13My beloved is unto me as a bundle of myrrh, That lieth betwixt my breasts.

14My love is to me as a branch of the cypress-tree in the vine-gardens of En-gedi.

14Behold thou are fair, O my love, behold thou are fair, thy eyes are as those of doves.

14My beloved is unto me as a cluster of henna-flowers In the vineyards of En-gedi.

15See, you are fair, my love, you are fair; you have the eyes of a dove.

15Behold thou art fair, my beloved, and comely. Our bed is flourishing.

15Behold, thou art fair, my love; Behold thou art fair; Thine eyes are as doves.

16See, you are fair, my loved one, and a pleasure; our bed is green.

16The beams of our houses are of cedar, our rafters of cypress trees.

16Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: Also our couch is green.

17Cedar-trees are the pillars of our house; and our boards are made of fir-trees.

17(not in this translation)

17The beams of our house are cedars, And our rafters are firs.