Song of Songs 1:6
Let not your eyes be turned on me, because I am dark, because I was looked on by the sun; my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vine-gardens; but my vine-garden I have not kept.
Let not your eyes be turned on me, because I am dark, because I was looked on by the sun; my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vine-gardens; but my vine-garden I have not kept.
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4Take me to you, and we will go after you: the king has taken me into his house. We will be glad and full of joy in you, we will give more thought to your love than to wine: rightly are they your lovers.
5I am dark, but fair of form, O daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.
7Say, O love of my soul, where you give food to your flock, and where you make them take their rest in the heat of the day; why have I to be as one wandering by the flocks of your friends?
8If you have not knowledge, O most beautiful among women, go on your way in the footsteps of the flock, and give your young goats food by the tents of the keepers.
9I have made a comparison of you, O my love, to a horse in Pharaoh's carriages.
30My skin is black and dropping off me; and my bones are burning with the heat of my disease.
31And my music has been turned to sorrow, and the sound of my pipe into the noise of weeping.
7Her holy ones were cleaner than snow, they were whiter than milk, their bodies were redder than corals, their form was as the sapphire:
8Their face is blacker than night; in the streets no one has knowledge of them: their skin is hanging on their bones, they are dry, they have become like wood.
5Let your eyes be turned away from me; see, they have overcome me; your hair is as a flock of goats which take their rest on the side of Gilead.
10Our skin is heated like an oven because of our burning heat from need of food.
6I made the door open to my loved one; but my loved one had taken himself away, and was gone, my soul was feeble when his back was turned on me; I went after him, but I did not come near him; I said his name, but he gave me no answer.
7The keepers who go about the town overtook me; they gave me blows and wounds; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
8I say to you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you see my loved one, what will you say to him? That I am overcome with love.
9What is your loved one more than another, O fairest among women? What is your loved one more than another, that you say this to us?
10My loved one is white and red, the chief among ten thousand.
11His head is as the most delicate gold; his hair is thick, and black as a raven.
1Let me make a song about my loved one, a song of love for his vine-garden. My loved one had a vine-garden on a fertile hill:
21For the destruction of the daughter of my people I am broken: I am dressed in the clothing of grief; fear has taken me in its grip.
10Who is she, looking down as the morning light, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, who is to be feared like an army with flags?
11I went down into the garden of nuts to see the green plants of the valley, and to see if the vine was in bud, and the pomegranate-trees were in flower.
12Before I was conscious of it, ...
16Which are dark because of the ice, and the snow falling into them;
1Where is your loved one gone, O most fair among women? Where is your loved one turned away, that we may go looking for him with you?
6Till the evening comes, and the sky slowly becomes dark, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
12Let us go out early to the vine-gardens; let us see if the vine is in bud, if it has put out its young fruit, and the pomegranate is in flower. There I will give you my love.
14My love is to me as a branch of the cypress-tree in the vine-gardens of En-gedi.
15See, you are fair, my love, you are fair; you have the eyes of a dove.
1Oh that you were my brother, who took milk from my mother's breasts! When I came to you in the street, I would give you kisses; yes, I would not be looked down on.
16My face is red with weeping, and my eyes are becoming dark;
10I am for my loved one, and his desire is for me.
7By him my vine is made waste and my fig-tree broken: he has taken all its fruit and sent it down to the earth; its branches are made white.
3I have put off my coat; how may I put it on? My feet are washed; how may I make them unclean?
3The watchmen who go about the town came by me; to them I said, Have you seen him who is my heart's desire?
4I was but a little way from them, when I came face to face with him who is the love of my soul. I took him by the hands, and did not let him go, till I had taken him into my mother's house, and into the room of her who gave me birth.
12My vine-garden, which is mine, is before me: you, O Solomon, will have the thousand, and those who keep the fruit of them two hundred.
13You who have your resting-place in the gardens, the friends give ear to your voice; make me give ear to it.
7My eyes have become dark because of my pain, and all my body is wasted to a shade.
4Is there anything which might have been done for my vine-garden which I have not done? why then, when I was hoping for the best grapes did it give me common grapes?
1Sorrow is mine! for I am as when they have got in the summer fruits, like the last of the grapes: there is nothing for food, not even an early fig for my desire.
12Come to me, all you who go by! Keep your eyes on me, and see if there is any pain like the pain of my wound, which the Lord has sent on me in the day of his burning wrath.
7My eyes are wasting away with trouble; they are becoming old because of all those who are against me.
2Why is your clothing red, and why are your robes like those of one who is crushing the grapes?
3As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my loved one among the sons. I took my rest under his shade with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
8My heritage has become like a lion in the woodland to me; her voice has been loud against me; so I have hate for her.
10I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers; then was I in his eyes as one to whom good chance had come.
8I have become strange to my brothers, and like a man from a far country to my mother's children.
1I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; to take my myrrh with my spice; my wax with my honey; my wine with my milk. Take meat, O friends; take wine, yes, be overcome with love.
12For it was not my hater who said evil of me; that would have been no grief to me; it was not one outside the number of my friends who made himself strong against me, or I would have kept myself from him in a secret place;
5Who is this, who comes up from the waste places, resting on her loved one? It was I who made you awake under the apple-tree, where your mother gave you birth; there she was in pain at your birth.