| 1 | Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth: for thy breasts are better than wine, |
| 2 | Smelling sweet of the best ointments. Thy name is as oil poured out: therefore young maidens have loved thee. |
| 3 | Draw 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 righteous love thee. |
| 4 | I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon. |
| 5 | Do 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. |
| 6 | shew 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. |
| 7 | If 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. |
| 8 | To my company of horsemen, in Pharao's chariots, have I likened thee, O my love. |
| 9 | Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtledove's, thy neck as jewels. |
| 10 | We will make thee chains of gold, inlaid with silver. |
| 11 | While the king was at his repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof. |
| 12 | A bundle of myrrh is my beloved to me, he shall abide between my breasts. |
| 13 | A cluster of cypress my love is to me, in the vineyards of Engaddi. |
| 14 | Behold thou art fair, O my love, behold thou art fair, thy eyes are as those of doves. |
| 15 | Behold thou art fair, my beloved, and comely. Our bed is flourishing. |
| 16 | The beams of our houses are of cedar, our rafters of cypress trees. |
