8 I wish that you were my brother,
that my mother had nursed you at her breast.
Then, if I met you in the street,
I could kiss you and no one would mind.
2 I would take you to my mother's house,
where you could teach me love.
I would give you spiced wine,
my pomegranate wine to drink.
3 Your left hand is under my head,
and your right hand caresses me.
4 Promise me, women of Jerusalem,
that you will not interrupt our love.
The Sixth Song
The Women
5 Who is this coming from the desert,
arm in arm with her lover?
The Woman
Under the apple tree I woke you,
in the place where you were born.
6 Close your heart to every love but mine;
hold no one in your arms but me.
Love is as powerful as death;
passion is as strong as death itself.
It bursts into flame
and burns like a raging fire.
7 Water cannot put it out;
no flood can drown it.
But if any tried to buy love with their wealth,
contempt is all they would get.
The Woman's Brothers
8 We have a young sister,
and her breasts are still small.
What will we do for her
when a young man comes courting?
9 If she is a wall,
we will build her a silver tower.
But if she is a gate,
we will protect her with panels of cedar.
The Woman
10 I am a wall,
and my breasts are its towers.
My lover knows that with him
I find contentment and peace.
The Man
11 Solomon has a vineyard
in a place called Baal Hamon.
There are farmers who rent it from him;
each one pays a thousand silver coins.
12 Solomon is welcome to his thousand coins,
and the farmers to two hundred as their share;
I have a vineyard of my own!
13 Let me hear your voice from the garden, my love;
my companions are waiting to hear you speak.
The Woman
14 Come to me, my lover, like a gazelle,
like a young stag on the mountains where spices grow.