Love Song (adapted from the Song of Solomon, also called Song of Songs)

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth!
For your love is better than wine.
Your anointing oils are fragrant.
Your name is perfume poured out:
I compare you, my love,
To a mare among Pharaoh's chariots.
My beloved is to me a bag of myrrh
That lies between my breasts.

As a lily among brambles,
So is my love among maidens.
As an apple tree among the trees of the wood,
So is my beloved among men.
Let me see your face, let me hear your voice;
For your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
O that his left hand were under my head,
And that his right hand embraced me.
How beautiful you are, my love, how very beautiful!
Your lips are like crimson thread.
My beloved is mine and I am his;
He pastures his flock among the lilies.

Sustain me with raisins, refresh me with apples,
For I am faint with love.
With great delight I sat in his shadow
And his fruit was sweet to my taste.
Until the day breathes and the shadows flee,
I will hasten to the mountain of myrrh
And the hill of frankincense.
You are altogether beautiful my love, there is no flaw in you.

You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride,
You have ravished my heart with a glance of your eyes.
How sweet is your love, my sister, my bride.
Let my beloved come to his garden,
And eat its choicest fruits.
This is my beloved and this is my friend.
I come to my garden,
I gather my myrrh with my spice.
I eat my honeycomb with my honey,
I drink my wine with my milk.

Eat, friends, drink,
And be drunk with love.

Ah, you are beautiful my love; ah you are beautiful;
Your eyes are cloves.
Ah, you are beautiful,
My beloved, truly lovely.

I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine;
He pastures his flock among the lilies.
I am my beloved's and his desire is for me.
O queenly maiden, o loved one, delectable maiden;
Your flowing locks are like purple;
A king is held captive in the tresses.

Set me as a seal upon your heart,
As a seal upon your arm;
For love is strong as death,
Passion fierce as the grave.
It's flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame.
Many waters cannot quench love,
Neither flood can drown it.
If one offered for love
All the wealth in one's house,
It would be utterly scorned.

O you who dwell in the gardens,
My companions are listening for your voice;
Let me hear it!
Make haste, my beloved,
And be like a gazelle or a young stag
Upon the mountain of spices.


7/11/00