Song of Solomon 8

The Lovers Speak

1Oh that you were like a brother to me
Who nursed at my mother’s breasts.
If I found you outdoors, I would kiss you;
No one would despise me, either.
2I would lead you and a  bring you
Into the house of my mother, who used to instruct me;
I would give you spiced wine to drink from the juice of my pomegranates.
3“Let b  his left hand be under my head
And his right hand embrace me.”

4
BRIDEGROOM
,
d  I want you to swear, O daughters of Jerusalem,
Or Why should you arouse
Do not arouse or awaken my love
Until
Or it
she pleases.”

5
CHORUS
,
h  Who is this coming up from the wilderness
Leaning on her beloved?”

BRIDE
Beneath the
Or apricot
,
k  apple tree I awakened you;
There your mother was in labor with you,
There she was in labor and gave you birth.
6Put me like a
Or signet
seal over your heart,
Like a m  seal on your arm.
For love is as strong as death,
Or Its ardor is as inflexible
,
o  Jealousy is as severe as Sheol;
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
Another reading is A vehement flame
The very flame of the  Lord.
7Many waters cannot quench love,
Nor will rivers overflow it;
q  If a man were to give all the riches of his house for love,
It would be utterly despised.”

8
CHORUS
We have a little sister,
And she s  has no breasts;
What shall we do for our sister
On the day when she is spoken for?
9If she is a wall,
We will build on her a battlement of silver;
But if she is a door,
We will barricade her with t  planks of cedar.”

10
BRIDE
I was a wall, and v  my breasts were like towers;
Then I became in his eyes as one who finds peace.
11Solomon had a w  vineyard at Baal-hamon;
He x  entrusted the vineyard to y  caretakers.
Each one was to bring a z  thousand shekels of silver for its aa  fruit.
12My very own vineyard is
Lit before me
at my disposal;
The thousand shekels are for you, Solomon,
And two hundred are for those who take care of its fruit.”

13
BRIDEGROOM
O you who sit in the gardens,
My ad  companions are listening for your voice
ae  Let me hear it!”

14
BRIDE
,
Lit Flee
Hurry, my beloved,
And be ah  like a gazelle or a young
Lit of the stags
stag
On the aj  mountains of spices.”

Copyright information for NASB_th