Song of Solomon — Interlinear Songbook

I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.

As a lily among thorns, so is My love among the daughters.

As the apple among the trees of the forest, so is my Beloved among the sons. I delighted in His shadow, and I sat down; and His fruit was sweet to my palate.

He brought me to the house of wine, and His banner over me was love.

Support me with raisin cakes, refresh me with apples, for I am sick with love.

His left hand is under my head, and His right hand embraces me.

I adjure you by the gazelles, or by the does of the field, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you not stir up, and that you not awaken my Love until it pleases.

The voice of my Beloved! Behold this, He comes leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.

My Beloved is likened to a gazelle, or to a young deer, the stag. Behold, He stands behind our wall, peering from the windows, sparkling from the lattice.

My Beloved answered and said to me, rise up yourself, My love, My beautiful one, and yourself come away.

For, behold, the winter has passed, the rain has passed, it goes to itself.

The flowers are seen on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

The fig tree spices her unripe figs, and the vines give a fragrance by the blossom. Arise, My love; come, My beautiful one, and come yourself.

My dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secrecy of the steep place, let Me see your form. Let Me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your form is beautiful.

Take for us the foxes, the little foxes spoiling the vineyards, even our vineyards with blossoms.

My Beloved is to me, and I am to Him; He feeds among the lilies.

Until when does the day blow, and the shadows flee away? Turn, my Beloved, and be like a gazelle, or a young deer, the stag, on the cleft mountains.

By night on my bed I sought Him whom my soul loves. I sought Him, but I did not find Him.

I will rise now and go about in the city, in the streets and in the broad places. I will seek Him whom my soul loves. I sought Him, but I did not find Him.

The ones watching going about in the city found me. I said, Have you seen Him whom my soul loves?

When I had passed on from them, it was a little while until I found Him whom my soul loves. I seized Him, and I did not let Him go until I had brought Him into my mother's house, and into the room of her who conceived me.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the does of the field, that awakening you do not awaken, even that you not awaken the Beloved until it pleases.

Who is this who comes up out of the wilderness like columns of smoke, sacrificing as incense myrrh and frankincense, from all powders of the merchant?

Behold his bed, Solomon's! Sixty mighty men are around it, of the mighty men of Israel.

They all hold the sword, instructed in war; each man has his sword on his thigh from dread in the night.

King Solomon made himself a litter bed of the trees of Lebanon.

He made its poles of silver; its back of gold; its seat of purple; its middle was paved with love by the daughters of Jerusalem.

Go forth, O daughters of Zion, and see King Solomon with the crown with which his mother crowned him on his wedding day, even on the day of the gladness of his heart.

Behold, you are beautiful, My love. Behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are as doves' from behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats which recline from Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of shorn sheep which come up from the washing place; of which they all are bearing twins; and bereavement is not among them.

Your lips are like a cord of scarlet, and your speech is comely; your temples are like a piece of pomegranate behind your veil.

Your neck is like the tower of David, built for an armory; a thousand bucklers hang on it, all the shields of the mighty men.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, feeding among the lilies.

Until when the day blows, and the shadows flee away, I myself will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hills of frankincense.

You are all beautiful, My love; a blemish is not on you.

Come with Me from Lebanon, My spouse; with Me from Lebanon. Look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.

You have ravished My heart, My sister, My spouse; you have ravished My heart with one of your eyes, with one string of beads from your neck.

How beautiful are your loves, My sister, My spouse! How much better are your loves than wine, and the scent of your ointments than all spices!

Your lips, My spouse, drip like the honeycomb; honey and milk are under your tongue. And the scent of your garments is like the scent of Lebanon.

A locked garden is My sister, My spouse; a spring locked up, a sealed fountain.

Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates with excellent fruits, with henna and spikenard;

spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon; with all trees of frankincense, myrrh and aloes; with all the chief balsam spices;

a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters; even flowings from Lebanon.

Awake, north wind; yea, come, south wind; blow on my garden; let its spices flow out. Let my Beloved come into His garden and eat its excellent fruits.

I have come to 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 and drink, O friends; yea, drink fully, beloved ones.

I sleep, but my heart is waking. It is the sound of my Beloved that knocks, saying, Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled. For My head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.

I have stripped off My coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed My feet; how shall I make them unclean?

My Beloved sent His hand from the opening, and my bowels sighed for Him.

I rose up to open to my Beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh; yea, my fingers flowing with myrrh on the handles of the bolt.

I opened to my Beloved, but my Beloved had withdrawn; He passed on. My soul went out when He spoke; I sought Him, but I could not find Him. I called Him, but He did not answer me.

The ones watching going about the city found me and struck me; they wounded me; those keeping the walls lifted my veil from me.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my Beloved, what do you tell Him? That I am sick with love.

What is your Beloved above any beloved, most beautiful among women? What is your Beloved above any other beloved, that you adjure us so?

My Beloved is bright and ruddy, standing out among ten thousand.

His head is like refined gold; His locks are wavy and black as a raven.

His eyes are as the eyes of doves on the rivers of waters, washed with milk, sitting on a setting.

His cheeks are like a bed of spices, a raised bed of aromatic herbs. His lips are like lilies dropping flowing myrrh.

His hands are like rings of gold filled with jewels; His body an ivory plate overlaid with sapphires.

His legs are like pillars of marble founded on bases of fine gold; His appearance is like Lebanon, being chosen as the cedars.

His palate is most sweet, and He is, all of Him, One of desire. This is my Beloved, and this is my Friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

Where has your Beloved gone, most beautiful among women? Where has your Beloved turned? For we seek Him along with you.

My Beloved has gone down to His garden, to the garden-bed of spices, to feed in the gardens and to gather lilies.

I am to my Beloved, and my Beloved is to me; He feeds among the lilies.

O My love, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, as comely as Jerusalem, awesome as bannered armies.

Turn away your eyes from Me, because they are disturbing to Me. Your hair is like a flock of goats which recline from Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of ewes which come up from the washing place, of which they all are giving birth, bearing twins, and bereavement is not among them.

Your temples from behind your veil are like a piece of pomegranate.

Sixty of them are queens, and eighty concubines, and virgins without number.

But My dove, My perfect one is one alone. She is the only one to her mother; she is pure to the one who bore her. The daughters saw her and called her blessed; the queens and the concubines saw her, and they praised her.

Who is she who looks down like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, pure as the sun, awesome as bannered armies?

I went down to the garden of nut trees, to see the greenery of the ravine, to see whether the vine flowered and the pomegranates budded.

I did not know, but My soul set Me on the chariots of My princely people.

Return, return, O Shulamite! Return, return, that we may gaze upon you. What will you see in the Shulamite? As it were the dance of two army camps.

How beautiful are your footsteps in sandals, O prince's daughter! The curves of your thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of an artisan.

Your navel is like a round goblet; it never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is like a heap of wheat hedged about with lilies.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.

Your neck is like an ivory tower; your eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim. Your nose is like a tower of Lebanon, peering toward the face of Damascus.

Your head is like Carmel, and the hair of your head like purple cloth; the King is held captive in its flowing.

How beautiful and how pleasant you are in delights, O love!

This your stature is likened to a palm tree, and your breasts to clusters of grapes.

I said, I will go up in the palm tree; I will take hold of its stalk. And please let your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the scent of your nose like apples,

and your palate like the best wine going down for my Beloved for uprightness, flowing softly over the lips of sleeping ones.

I am my Beloved's, and His desire is toward me.

Come, my Beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us stay in the villages.

Let us rise up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flowers and whether the blossom opens, and the pomegranates bud forth. There I will give my loves to You.

The love apples give a scent, and over our doors are all excellent fruits; new, also old, I have laid up for You, my Beloved.

Who can give You to me, as my brother, suckling the breasts of my mother? If I find You outside, I would kiss You. They also would not despise me.

I would lead You; I would bring You into my mother's house, that You might teach me; I would cause You to drink the spiced wine from the juice of my pomegranate.

His left hand would be under my head, and His right hand embracing me.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem; why do you awaken; yea, why do you awaken my Love until it pleases?

Who is this that comes up from the wilderness, leaning on her Beloved? I awakened you under the apple tree; there your mother travailed with you; there she travailed; she bore you.

Set me as a seal on Your heart, as a seal on Your arm. For love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as Sheol; its flames are flames of fire, a flame of Jehovah.

Many waters cannot quench love, and the rivers will not overflow it. If a man would give all the wealth of his house for love, despising they would despise him.

A little sister is to us, and no breasts are to her. What shall we do for our sister in the day she shall be spoken for?

If she is a wall, we will build a turret of silver on her. And if she is a door, we will enclose her with boards of cedar.

I was a wall, and my breasts like towers; then I was in His eyes as one finding peace.

A vineyard in Baal-hamon was to Solomon. He gave the vineyard to those keeping it; for its fruit each man was to bring a thousand of silver.

My vineyard which is mine is before me; the thousand is for you, O Solomon, and two hundred for those keeping of its fruit.

You who dwell in the gardens, the companions are listening to your voice; cause me to hear it.

Hurry, my Beloved, and be like a gazelle, or a young deer, the stag, on the mountains of spices.