Song of Songs 1:5
Dark `am' I, and comely, daughters of Jerusalem, As tents of Kedar, as curtains of Solomon.
Dark `am' I, and comely, daughters of Jerusalem, As tents of Kedar, as curtains of Solomon.
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6 Fear me not, because I `am' very dark, Because the sun hath scorched me, The sons of my mother were angry with me, They made me keeper of the vineyards, My vineyard -- my own -- I have not kept.
7 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?
8 If thou knowest not, O fair among women, Get thee forth by the traces of the flock, And feed thy kids by the shepherds' dwellings!
9 To my joyous one in chariots of Pharaoh, I have compared thee, my friend,
10 Comely have been thy cheeks with garlands, Thy neck with chains.
4 Draw me: after thee we run, The king hath brought me into his inner chambers, We do joy and rejoice in thee, We mention thy loves more than wine, Uprightly they have loved thee!
7 The watchmen who go round about the city, Found me, smote me, wounded me, Keepers of the walls lifted up my veil from off me.
8 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved -- What do ye tell him? that I `am' sick with love!
9 What `is' thy beloved above `any' beloved, O fair among women? What `is' thy beloved above `any' beloved, That thus thou hast adjured us?
10 My beloved `is' clear and ruddy, Conspicuous above a myriad!
11 His head `is' pure gold -- fine gold, His locks flowing, dark as a raven,
4 Fair `art' thou, my friend, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.
5 Turn round thine eyes from before me, Because they have made me proud. Thy hair `is' as a row of the goats, That have shone from Gilead,
30 My skin hath been black upon me, And my bone hath burned from heat,
14 A cluster of cypress `is' my beloved to me, In the vineyards of En-Gedi!
15 Lo, thou `art' fair, my friend, Lo, thou `art' fair, thine eyes `are' doves!
16 Lo, thou `art' fair, my love, yea, pleasant, Yea, our couch `is' green,
6 Till the day doth break forth, And the shadows have fled away, I will get me unto the mountain of myrrh, And unto the hill of frankincense.
7 Thou `art' all fair, my friend, And a blemish there is not in thee. Come from Lebanon, O spouse,
8 Come from Lebanon, come thou in. Look from the top of Amana, From the top of Shenir and Hermon, From the habitations of lions, From the mountains of leopards.
9 One is my dove, my perfect one, One she `is' of her mother, The choice one she `is' of her that bare her, Daughters saw, and pronounce her happy, Queens and concubines, and they praise her.
10 `Who `is' this that is looking forth as morning, Fair as the moon -- clear as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?'
4 Thy neck as a tower of the ivory, Thine eyes pools in Heshbon, near the gate of Bath-Rabbim, Thy face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,
5 Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
6 How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.
1 Lo, thou `art' fair, my friend, lo, thou `art' fair, Thine eyes `are' doves behind thy veil, Thy hair as a row of the goats That have shone from mount Gilead,
10 I `am' my beloved's, and on me `is' his desire.
5 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!
6 Who `is' this coming up from the wilderness, Like palm-trees of smoke, Perfumed `with' myrrh and frankincense, From every powder of the merchant?
7 Purer were her Nazarites than snow, Whiter than milk, ruddier of body than rubies, Of sapphire their form.
8 Darker than blackness hath been their visage, They have not been known in out-places, Cleaved hath their skin unto their bone, It hath withered -- it hath been as wood.
15 His limbs pillars of marble, Founded on sockets of fine gold, His appearance as Lebanon, choice as the cedars.
16 His mouth is sweetness -- and all of him desirable, This `is' my beloved, and this my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem!
1 As a lily among the thorns,
2 So `is' my friend among the daughters!
3 As a citron among trees of the forest, So `is' my beloved among the sons, In his shade I delighted, and sat down, And his fruit `is' sweet to my palate.
10 My beloved hath answered and said to me, `Rise up, my friend, my fair one, and come away,
12 I knew not my soul, It made me -- chariots of my people Nadib.
1 Whither hath thy beloved gone, O fair among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned, And we seek him with thee?
11 Go forth, and look, ye daughters of Zion, On king Solomon, with the crown, With which his mother crowned him, In the day of his espousals, And in the day of the joy of his heart!
1 I have come in to my garden, my sister-spouse, I have plucked my myrrh with my spice, I have eaten my comb with my honey, I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, drink, Yea, drink abundantly, O beloved ones!
2 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.'
10 I `am' a wall, and my breasts as towers, Then I have been in his eyes as one finding peace.
10 How wonderful have been thy loves, my sister-spouse, How much better have been thy loves than wine, And the fragrance of thy perfumes than all spices.
3 As a thread of scarlet `are' thy lips, And thy speech `is' comely, As the work of the pomegranate `is' thy temple behind thy veil,
2 The comely and the delicate one I have cut off, The daughter of Zion.
2 Let him kiss me with kisses of his mouth, For better `are' thy loves than wine.
4 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, How ye stir up, And how ye wake the love till she please!
5 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.
7 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes or by the hinds of the field, Stir not up nor wake the love till she please!