Study Desk

Declare to me, thou whom my soul hath loved, Where thou delightest, Where thou liest down at noon, For why am I as one veiled, By the ranks of thy companions?

Garlands of gold we do make for thee, With studs of silver!

Sustain me with grape-cakes, Support me with citrons, for I [am] sick with love.

For lo, the winter hath passed by, The rain hath passed away -- it hath gone.

My dove, in clefts of the rock, In a secret place of the ascent, Cause me to see thine appearance, Cause me to hear thy voice, For thy voice [is] sweet, and thy appearance comely.

Seize ye for us foxes, Little foxes -- destroyers of vineyards, Even our sweet-smelling vineyards.

All of them holding sword, taught of battle, Each his sword by his thigh, for fear at night.

A palanquin king Solomon made for himself, Of the wood of Lebanon,

Thy teeth as a row of the shorn ones That have come up from the washing, For all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them.

As the tower of David [is] thy neck, built for an armoury, The chief of the shields are hung on it, All shields of the mighty.

I am sleeping, but my heart waketh: The sound of my beloved knocking! `Open to me, my sister, my friend, My dove, my perfect one, For my head is filled [with] dew, My locks [with] drops of the night.'

My beloved sent his hand from the net-work, And my bowels were moved for him.

The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, yea, old, my beloved, I laid up for thee!

Who [is] this coming from the wilderness, Hasting herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have waked thee, There did thy mother pledge thee, There she gave a pledge [that] bare thee.

Set me as a seal on thy heart, as a seal on thine arm, For strong as death is love, Sharp as Sheol is jealousy, Its burnings [are] burnings of fire, a flame of Jah!

Many waters are not able to quench the love, And floods do not wash it away. If one give all the wealth of his house for love, Treading down -- they tread upon it.

We have a little sister, and breasts she hath not, What do we do for our sister, In the day that it is told of her?

Solomon hath a vineyard in Baal-Hamon, He hath given the vineyard to keepers, Each bringeth for its fruit a thousand silverlings;

My vineyard -- my own -- is before me, The thousand [is] for thee, O Solomon. And the two hundred for those keeping its fruit. O dweller in gardens!

Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth, For Jehovah hath spoken: Sons I have nourished and brought up, And they -- they transgressed against Me.