Song of Songs 8 Literal Standard Version

81 Who makes you as a brother to me, || Suckling the breasts of my mother? I find you outside, I kiss you, || Indeed, they do not despise me, 2 I lead you, I bring you into my mother’s house, || She teaches me, I cause you to drink of the spiced wine, || Of the juice of my pomegranate, 3 His left hand [is] under my head, || And his right embraces me. 4 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, || How you stir up, || And how you wake the love until she pleases! 5 Who [is] this coming from the wilderness, || Hastening herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have awoken you, || There your mother pledged you, || There she [who] bore you gave a pledge. 6 Set me as a seal on your heart, as a seal on your arm, || For strong as death is love, || Sharp as Sheol is jealousy, || Its burnings [are] burnings of fire, a flame of YAH! 7 Many waters are not able to quench the love, || And floods do not wash it away. If one gives all the wealth of his house for love, || Treading down—they tread on it. 8 We have a little sister, and she does not have breasts, || What do we do for our sister, || In the day that it is told of her? 9 If she is a wall, we build by her a palace of silver. And if she is a door, || We fashion by her board-work of cedar. 10 I [am] a wall, and my breasts as towers, || Then I have been in his eyes as one finding peace. 11 Solomon has a vineyard in Ba‘al-Hamon, || He has given the vineyard to keepers, || Each brings for its fruit one thousand pieces of silver; 12 My vineyard—my own—is before me, || The one thousand [is] for you, O Solomon. And the two hundred for those keeping its fruit. O dweller in gardens! 13 The companions are attending to your voice, || Cause me to hear. Flee, my beloved, and be like to a roe, 14 Or to a young one of the harts on mountains of spices!