Song of Solomon 8

1 I wish you were like my brother who fed at my mother's breasts. If I found you outside, I would kiss you, and no one would look down on me.
2 I would lead you and bring you to my mother's house; she is the one who taught me. I would give you a drink of spiced wine from my pomegranates.
3 My lover's left hand is under my head, and his right arm holds me tight.
4 Women of Jerusalem, promise not to awaken or excite my feelings of love until it is ready.
5 Who is this coming out of the desert, leaning on her lover? I woke you under the apple tree where you were born; there your mother gave birth to you.
6 Put me like a seal on your heart, like a seal on your arm. Love is as strong as death; jealousy is as strong as the grave. Love bursts into flames and burns like a hot fire.
7 Even much water cannot put out the flame of love; floods cannot drown love. If a man offered everything in his house for love, people would totally reject it.
8 We have a little sister, and her breasts are not yet grown. What should we do for our sister on the day she becomes engaged?
9 If she is a wall, we will put silver towers on her. If she is a door, we will protect her with cedar boards.
10 I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers. So I was to him, as one who brings happiness.
11 Solomon had a vineyard at Baal Hamon. He rented the vineyards for others to tend, and everyone who rented had to pay twenty-five pounds of silver for the fruit.
12 But my own vineyard is mine to give. Solomon, the twenty-five pounds of silver are for you, and five pounds are for those who tend the fruit.
13 You who live in the gardens, my friends are listening for your voice; let me hear it.
14 Hurry, my lover, be like a gazelle or a young deer on the mountains where spices grow.