Song of Solomon

שִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים, אֲשֶׁר לִשְׁלֹמֹה.

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This book is called the Canticle of Canticles, that is to say, the most excellent of all canticles: because it is full of high mysteries, relating to the happy union of Christ and his spouse: which is here begun by love; and is to be eternal in heaven. The spouse of Christ is the Church: more especially as to the happiest part of it, viz., perfect souls, every one of which is his beloved, but, above all others, the immaculate and ever blessed virgin mother. (For more information, see the article CANTICLE OF CANTICLES in the Catholic Encyclopedia.)[1]

Canticle 1

[1] The Song of Songs, which is Solomon's.

[2] O that you would kiss me with the kisses of your mouth! For your love is better than wine,

[3] your anointing oils are fragrant, your name is oil poured out; therefore the maidens love you.

[4] Draw me after you, let us make haste. The king has brought me into his chambers. We will exult and rejoice in you; we will extol your love more than wine; rightly do they love you.

[5] I am very dark, but comely, O daughters of Jerusalem, like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon.

[6] Do not gaze at me because I am swarthy, because the sun has scorched me. My mother's sons were angry with me, they made me keeper of the vineyards; but, my own vineyard I have not kept!

[7] Tell me, you whom my soul loves, where you pasture your flock, where you make it lie down at noon; for why should I be like one who wanders beside the flocks of your companions?

[8] If you do not know, O fairest among women, follow in the tracks of the flock, and pasture your kids beside the shepherds' tents.

[9] I compare you, my love, to a mare of Pharaoh's chariots.

[10] Your cheeks are comely with ornaments, your neck with strings of jewels.

[11] We will make you ornaments of gold, studded with silver.

[12] While the king was on his couch, my nard gave forth its fragrance.

[13] My beloved is to me a bag of myrrh, that lies between my breasts.

[14] My beloved is to me a cluster of henna blossoms in the vineyards of Enge'di.

[15] Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves.

[16] Behold, you are beautiful, my beloved, truly lovely. Our couch is green;

[17] the beams of our house are cedar, our rafters are pine.

Canticle 2

[1] I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.

[2] As a lily among brambles, so is my love among maidens.

[3] As an apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among young men. With great delight I sat in his shadow, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.

[4] He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.

[5] Sustain me with raisins, refresh me with apples; for I am sick with love.

[6] O that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand embraced me!

[7] I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or the hinds of the field, that you stir not up nor awaken love until it please.

[8] The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, leaping upon the mountains, bounding over the hills.

[9] My beloved is like a gazelle, or a young stag. Behold, there he stands behind our wall, gazing in at the windows, looking through the lattice.

[10] My beloved speaks and says to me: "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away;

[11] for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.

[12] The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

[13] The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

[14] O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the cliff, let me see your face, let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet, and your face is comely.

[15] Catch us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vineyards, for our vineyards are in blossom."

[16] My beloved is mine and I am his, he pastures his flock among the lilies.

[17] Until the day breathes and the shadows flee, turn, my beloved, be like a gazelle, or a young stag upon rugged mountains.

Canticle 3

[1] Upon my bed by night I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer.

[2] "I will rise now and go about the city, in the streets and in the squares; I will seek him whom my soul loves." I sought him, but found him not.

[3] The watchmen found me, as they went about in the city. "Have you seen him whom my soul loves?"

[4] Scarcely had I passed them, when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him, and would not let him go until I had brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.

[5] I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or the hinds of the field, that you stir not up nor awaken love until it please.

[6] What is that coming up from the wilderness, like a column of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all the fragrant powders of the merchant?

[7] Behold, it is the litter of Solomon! About it are sixty mighty men of the mighty men of Israel,

[8] all girt with swords and expert in war, each with his sword at his thigh, against alarms by night.

[9] King Solomon made himself a palanquin from the wood of Lebanon.

[10] He made its posts of silver, its back of gold, its seat of purple; it was lovingly wrought within by the daughters of Jerusalem.

[11] Go forth, O daughters of Zion, and behold King Solomon, with the crown with which his mother crowned him on the day of his wedding, on the day of the gladness of his heart.

Canticle 4

[1] Behold, you are beautiful, my love, behold, you are beautiful! Your eyes are doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats, moving down the slopes of Gilead.

[2] Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes that have come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and not one among them is bereaved.

[3] Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your mouth is lovely. Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate behind your veil.

[4] Your neck is like the tower of David, built for an arsenal, whereon hang a thousand bucklers, all of them shields of warriors.

[5] Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, that feed among the lilies.

[6] Until the day breathes and the shadows flee, I will hie me to the mountain of myrrh and the hill of frankincense.

[7] You are all fair, my love; there is no flaw in you.

[8] Come with me from Lebanon, my bride; come with me from Lebanon. Depart from the peak of Ama'na, from the peak of Senir and Hermon, from the dens of lions, from the mountains of leopards.

[9] You have ravished my heart, my sister, my bride, you have ravished my heart with a glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace.

[10] How sweet is your love, my sister, my bride! how much better is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your oils than any spice!

[11] Your lips distil nectar, my bride; honey and milk are under your tongue; the scent of your garments is like the scent of Lebanon.

[12] A garden locked is my sister, my bride, a garden locked, a fountain sealed.

[13] Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates with all choicest fruits, henna with nard,

[14] nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense, myrrh and aloes, with all chief spices --

[15] a garden fountain, a well of living water, and flowing streams from Lebanon.

[16] Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind! Blow upon my garden, let its fragrance be wafted abroad. Let my beloved come to his garden, and eat its choicest fruits.

Canticle 5

[1] I come to my garden, my sister, my bride, I gather my myrrh with my spice, I eat my honeycomb with my honey, I drink my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink: drink deeply, O lovers!

[2] I slept, but my heart was awake. Hark! my beloved is knocking. "Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one; for my head is wet with dew, my locks with the drops of the night."

[3] I had put off my garment, how could I put it on? I had bathed my feet, how could I soil them?

[4] My beloved put his hand to the latch, and my heart was thrilled within me.

[5] I arose to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, upon the handles of the bolt.

[6] I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had turned and gone. My soul failed me when he spoke. I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer.

[7] The watchmen found me, as they went about in the city; they beat me, they wounded me, they took away my mantle, those watchmen of the walls.

[8] I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him I am sick with love.

[9] What is your beloved more than another beloved, O fairest among women? What is your beloved more than another beloved, that you thus adjure us?

[10]My beloved is all radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand.

[11] His head is the finest gold; his locks are wavy, black as a raven.

[12] His eyes are like doves beside springs of water, bathed in milk, fitly set.

[13] His cheeks are like beds of spices, yielding fragrance. His lips are lilies, distilling liquid myrrh.

[14] His arms are rounded gold, set with jewels. His body is ivory work, encrusted with sapphires.

[15] His legs are alabaster columns, set upon bases of gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as the cedars.

[16] His speech is most sweet, and he is altogether desirable. This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

Canticle 6

[1] Whither has your beloved gone, O fairest among women? Whither has your beloved turned, that we may seek him with you?

[2] My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to pasture his flock in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

[3] I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine; he pastures his flock among the lilies.

[4] You are beautiful as Tirzah, my love, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.

[5] Turn away your eyes from me, for they disturb me -- Your hair is like a flock of goats, moving down the slopes of Gilead.

[6] Your teeth are like a flock of ewes, that have come up from the washing, all of them bear twins, not one among them is bereaved.

[7] Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate behind your veil.

[8] There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, and maidens without number.

[9] My dove, my perfect one, is only one, the darling of her mother, flawless to her that bore her. The maidens saw her and called her happy; the queens and concubines also, and they praised her.

[10] "Who is this that looks forth like the dawn, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army with banners?"

[11] I went down to the nut orchard, to look at the blossoms of the valley, to see whether the vines had budded, whether the pomegranates were in bloom.

[12] Before I was aware, my fancy set me in a chariot beside my prince.

[13] Return, return, O Shu'lammite, return, return, that we may look upon you. Why should you look upon the Shu'lammite, as upon a dance before two armies?

Canticle 7

[1] How graceful are your feet in sandals, O queenly maiden! Your rounded thighs are like jewels, the work of a master hand.

[2] Your navel is a rounded bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.

[3] Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.

[4] Your neck is like an ivory tower. Your eyes are pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rab'bim. Your nose is like a tower of Lebanon, overlooking Damascus.

[5] Your head crowns you like Carmel, and your flowing locks are like purple; a king is held captive in the tresses.

[6] How fair and pleasant you are, O loved one, delectable maiden!

[7] You are stately as a palm tree, and your breasts are like its clusters.

[8] I say I will climb the palm tree and lay hold of its branches. Oh, may your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the scent of your breath like apples,

[9] and your kisses like the best wine that goes down smoothly, gliding over lips and teeth.

[10] I am my beloved's, and his desire is for me.

[11] Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the fields, and lodge in the villages;

[12] let us go out early to the vineyards, and see whether the vines have budded, whether the grape blossoms have opened and the pomegranates are in bloom. There I will give you my love.

[13] The mandrakes give forth fragrance, and over our doors are all choice fruits, new as well as old, which I have laid up for you, O my beloved.

Canticle 8

[1] O that you were like a brother to me, that nursed at my mother's breast! If I met you outside, I would kiss you, and none would despise me.

[2] I would lead you and bring you into the house of my mother, and into the chamber of her that conceived me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the juice of my pomegranates.

[3] O that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand embraced me!

[4] I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up nor awaken love until it please.

[5] Who is that coming up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple tree I awakened you. There your mother was in travail with you, there she who bore you was in travail.

[6] Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, jealousy is cruel as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a most vehement flame.

[7] Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house, it would be utterly scorned.

[8] We have a little sister, and she has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister, on the day when she is spoken for?

[9] If she is a wall, we will build upon her a battlement of silver; but if she is a door, we will enclose her with boards of cedar.

[10] I was a wall, and my breasts were like towers; then I was in his eyes as one who brings peace.

[11] Solomon had a vineyard at Ba'al-ha'mon; he let out the vineyard to keepers; each one was to bring for its fruit a thousand pieces of silver.

[12] My vineyard, my very own, is for myself; you, O Solomon, may have the thousand, and the keepers of the fruit two hundred.

[13] O you who dwell in the gardens, my companions are listening for your voice; let me hear it.

[14] Make haste, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag upon the mountains of spices.