Ketuvim
Shir HaShirim5
Song of Songs · Chapter 5
I am come into my garden, my sister,
my spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk: eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.
I sleep, but my heart waketh:
it is the voice of my beloved that knocketh,
saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled: for my head is filled with dew,
and my locks with the drops of the night.
I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?
My beloved put in his hand by the hole
of the door, and my bowels were moved for him.
I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped
with
myrrh, and my fingers
with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself,
and
was gone: my nephesh failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
I charge you, O daughters of Yerushalayim, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I
am sick of love.
What
is thy beloved more than
another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what
is thy beloved more than
another
beloved, that thou dost so charge us?
My beloved
is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.
His head
is as the most fine gold, his locks
are
bushy,
and black as a raven.
His eyes
are as
the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk,
and fitly set.
His cheeks
are as a bed of spices,
as sweet flowers: his lips
like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.
His hands
are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly
is as bright ivory overlaid
with sapphires.
His legs
are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance
is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.
His mouth
is most sweet: yea, he
is altogether lovely. This
is my beloved, and this
is my friend, O daughters of Yerushalayim.
Ketuvim
Shir HaShirim6
Song of Songs · Chapter 6
Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? whither is thy beloved turned aside? that we may seek him with thee.
My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
I
am my beloved’s, and my beloved
is mine: he feedeth among the lilies.
Thou
art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Yerushalayim, terrible as
an army with banners.
Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me: thy hair
is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead.
Thy teeth
are as a flock of sheep which go up from the washing, whereof every one beareth twins, and
there is not one barren among them.
As a piece of a pomegranate
are thy temples within thy locks.
There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and virgins without number.
My dove, my undefiled is
but one; she
is the
only one of her mother, she
is the choice
one
of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her;
yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.
Who
is she
that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun,
and terrible as
an army
with banners?
I went down into the garden of nuts to see the fruits of the valley,
and to see whether the vine flourished,
and the pomegranates budded.
Or ever I was aware, my nephesh made me
like the chariots of Amminadib.
Return, return, O Shulamite; return, return, that we may look upon thee. What will ye see in the Shulamite? As it were the company of two armies.
Ketuvim
Shir HaShirim7
Song of Songs · Chapter 7
How beautiful are thy feet with shoes, O prince’s daughter! the joints of thy thighs
are like jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning workman.
Thy navel
is like a round goblet,
which wanteth not liquor: thy belly
is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.
Thy two breasts
are like two young roes
that are
twins.
Thy neck
is as a tower of ivory; thine eyes
like
the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim: thy nose
is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.
Thine head upon thee
is like Carmel, and the hair of thine head like purple; the king
is held in the galleries.
How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!
This thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters
of grapes.
I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof: now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of thy nose like apples;
And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved, that goeth
down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.
I
am my beloved’s, and his desire
is toward me.
Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.
Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish,
whether the tender grape appear,
and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee my loves.
The mandrakes give a smell, and at our gates
are all manner of pleasant
fruits, new and old,
which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.