Love is timeless, as are its letters

Upon my bed during the nights, I sought the one I love. I sought him, but I did not find him.

I will arise and roam the city; in the streets and in the public squares, let me seek the one I love. I sought him, but I did not find him.

The watchmen making their rounds in the city found me. “Have you seen the one I love?”

Scarcely had I passed by them when I found the one I love. I held on to him, I would not let him go until I brought him into my mother’s house, into the interior room of her who conceived me.

I put you under oath, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and the does of the field: do not try to awaken or arouse love in me until it feels inclined.

What is this coming up from the wilderness like columns of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all the fragrant powders of a merchant?

Look! It is the couch belonging to Solomon. Sixty mighty men surround it, of the mighty men of Israel— all of them armed with a sword, all trained in warfare, each with his sword at his side to guard against the terrors of the night.

It is the royal litter of King Solomon that he made for himself from the trees of Lebanon. Its pillars he made of silver, its supports of gold. Its seat is of purple wool; its interior was lovingly decorated by the daughters of Jerusalem.

Go out, O daughters of Zion, gaze at King Solomon wearing the wedding crown his mother made for him on the day of his marriage, on the day of his heart’s rejoicing.

Look! You are beautiful, my beloved. Look! You are beautiful. Your eyes are those of doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down the mountains of Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn sheep that have come up from being washed, all of them bearing twins, and not one has lost her young.

Your lips are like a scarlet thread, and your speech is delightful. Like a segment of pomegranate are your cheeks behind your veil.

Your neck is like the tower of David, built with courses of stone, upon which are hung a thousand shields, all the circular shields of the mighty men.

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

Until the day grows breezy and the shadows flee, I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.

You are altogether beautiful, my beloved, there is no blemish in you.

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon. Descend from the peak of Amanah, from the peak of Senir, the peak of Hermon, from the lairs of lions, from the mountains of leopards.

You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride, you have captured my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one pendant of your necklace.

How beautiful your expressions of affection are, my sister, my bride! Your expressions of affection are far better than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume than any spice.

Your lips, my bride, drip with comb honey. Honey and milk are under your tongue, and the fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

My sister, my bride, is like a locked garden, a locked garden, a spring sealed shut.

Your shoots are a paradise of pomegranates with the choicest fruits, with henna along with spikenard plants, spikenard and saffron, cane and cinnamon, with all sorts of trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, along with all the finest perfumes.

You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water, and flowing streams from Lebanon.

Awake, O north wind; come in, O south wind. Breathe upon my garden. Let its fragrance spread.

Let my dear one come into his garden and eat its choicest fruits.

I have entered my garden, O my sister, my bride. I have picked my myrrh and my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk.

Eat, dear friends! Drink and become intoxicated with expressions of affection!

I am asleep, but my heart is awake. There is the sound of my dear one knocking!

“Open to me, O my sister, my beloved, my dove, my flawless one! For my head is wet with dew, the locks of my hair with the moisture of the night.”

I have taken off my robe. Must I put it back on? I have washed my feet. Must I soil them again?

My dear one withdrew his hand from the hole of the door, and my feelings for him were stirred. I got up to open to my dear one; my hands dripped with myrrh, and my fingers with liquid myrrh, onto the handles of the lock.

I opened to my dear one, but my dear one had turned away, he had gone. I felt despair when he departed. I sought him, but I did not find him. I called him, but he did not answer me.

The watchmen making their rounds in the city found me. They struck me, they wounded me. The watchmen of the walls took my shawl away from me.

I put you under oath, O daughters of Jerusalem: if you find my dear one, tell him that I am lovesick.

“How is your dear one better than any other dear one, you most beautiful of women? How is your dear one better than any other dear one, that you put us under such an oath?”

“My dear one is dazzling and ruddy; he stands out among ten thousand. His head is gold, the finest gold. The locks of his hair are like waving palm fronds as black as the raven.

His eyes are like doves by streams of water, bathing themselves in milk, sitting by a brimming pool.

His cheeks are like a bed of spices, mounds of scented herbs. His lips are lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh.

His hands are cylinders of gold, set with chrysolite. His abdomen is polished ivory covered with sapphires. His legs are pillars of marble set on pedestals of the finest gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, as unrivaled as the cedars.

His mouth is sweetness itself, and everything about him is desirable. This is my dear one, this is my beloved, O daughters of Jerusalem.”

Song of Songs 3–5

[Woman]
Upon my bed during the nights,
I sought the one I love.
I sought him, but I did not find him.

I will arise and roam the city;
in the streets and in the public squares,
let me seek the one I love.
I sought him, but I did not find him.

The watchmen making their rounds in the city found me.
“Have you seen the one I love?”

Scarcely had I passed by them
when I found the one I love.
I held on to him, I would not let him go
until I brought him into my mother’s house,
into the interior room of her who conceived me.

I put you under oath, O daughters of Jerusalem,
by the gazelles and the does of the field:
do not try to awaken or arouse love in me
until it feels inclined.

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

Look! It is the couch belonging to Solomon.
Sixty mighty men surround it,
of the mighty men of Israel—
all of them armed with a sword,
all trained in warfare,
each with his sword at his side
to guard against the terrors of the night.

It is the royal litter of King Solomon
that he made for himself from the trees of Lebanon.
Its pillars he made of silver,
its supports of gold.
Its seat is of purple wool;
its interior was lovingly decorated
by the daughters of Jerusalem.

Go out, O daughters of Zion,
gaze at King Solomon
wearing the wedding crown his mother made for him
on the day of his marriage,
on the day of his heart’s rejoicing.

[Man]
Look! You are beautiful, my beloved.
Look! You are beautiful.
Your eyes are those of doves behind your veil.
Your hair is like a flock of goats
streaming down the mountains of Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn sheep
that have come up from being washed,
all of them bearing twins,
and not one has lost her young.

Your lips are like a scarlet thread,
and your speech is delightful.
Like a segment of pomegranate
are your cheeks behind your veil.

Your neck is like the tower of David,
built with courses of stone,
upon which are hung a thousand shields,
all the circular shields of the mighty men.

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

Until the day grows breezy and the shadows flee,
I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh
and to the hill of frankincense.

You are altogether beautiful, my beloved;
there is no blemish in you.

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride,
come with me from Lebanon.
Descend from the peak of Amanah,
from the peak of Senir, the peak of Hermon,
from the lairs of lions,
from the mountains of leopards.

You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride,
you have captured my heart with one glance of your eyes,
with one pendant of your necklace.

How beautiful your expressions of affection are,
my sister, my bride!
Your expressions of affection are far better than wine,
and the fragrance of your perfume than any spice!

Your lips, my bride, drip with comb honey.
Honey and milk are under your tongue,
and the fragrance of your garments
is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

My sister, my bride, is like a locked garden,
a locked garden, a spring sealed shut.

Your shoots are a paradise of pomegranates
with the choicest fruits,
with henna along with spikenard plants,
spikenard and saffron, cane and cinnamon,
with all sorts of trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes,
along with all the finest perfumes.

You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water,
and flowing streams from Lebanon.

[Woman]
Awake, O north wind;
come in, O south wind.
Breathe upon my garden.
Let its fragrance spread.

Let my dear one come into his garden
and eat its choicest fruits.

[Man]
I have entered my garden,
O my sister, my bride.
I have picked my myrrh and my spice.
I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey;
I have drunk my wine and my milk.

[Chorus]
Eat, dear friends!
Drink and become intoxicated
with expressions of affection!

[Woman]
I am asleep, but my heart is awake.
There is the sound of my dear one knocking!

“Open to me, O my sister, my beloved,
my dove, my flawless one!
For my head is wet with dew,
the locks of my hair with the moisture of the night.”

I have taken off my robe.
Must I put it back on?
I have washed my feet.
Must I soil them again?

My dear one withdrew his hand from the hole of the door,
and my feelings for him were stirred.
I got up to open to my dear one;
my hands dripped with myrrh,
and my fingers with liquid myrrh,
onto the handles of the lock.

I opened to my dear one,
but my dear one had turned away, he had gone.
I felt despair when he departed.
I sought him, but I did not find him.
I called him, but he did not answer me.

The watchmen making their rounds in the city found me.
They struck me, they wounded me.
The watchmen of the walls took my shawl away from me.

I put you under oath, O daughters of Jerusalem:
if you find my dear one,
tell him that I am lovesick.

[Chorus]
How is your dear one better than any other dear one,
you most beautiful of women?
How is your dear one better than any other dear one,
that you put us under such an oath?

[Woman]
My dear one is dazzling and ruddy;
he stands out among ten thousand.

His head is gold, the finest gold.
The locks of his hair are like waving palm fronds,
as black as the raven.

His eyes are like doves by streams of water,
bathing themselves in milk,
sitting by a brimming pool.

His cheeks are like a bed of spices,
mounds of scented herbs.
His lips are lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh.

His hands are cylinders of gold, set with chrysolite.
His abdomen is polished ivory covered with sapphires.
His legs are pillars of marble
set on pedestals of the finest gold.

His appearance is like Lebanon,
as unrivaled as the cedars.

His mouth is sweetness itself,
and everything about him is desirable.

This is my dear one, this is my beloved,
O daughters of Jerusalem.

#bible #solomon #audiobook #songofsongs #canticles #reading #loveletters

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Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?

The Song of Songs, which is Solomon’s

May he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your expressions of affection are better than wine. The fragrance of your oils is pleasant; your name is like a fragrant oil poured out— that is why the young women love you.

Take me with you, let us run. The king has brought me into his interior rooms! Let us be joyful and rejoice in you. Let us praise your expressions of affection more than wine. Rightly they love you.

I am dark, but lovely, O daughters of Jerusalem, like the tents of Kedar, like the tent cloths of Solomon. Do not stare at me because I am swarthy, because the sun has gazed upon me. The sons of my mother were angry with me; they appointed me the keeper of the vineyards, but my own vineyard I did not keep.

Tell me, you whom I love so much, where you pasture your flock, where you have them lie down at midday. Why should I be like a woman wrapped in a veil among the flocks of your companions?

“If you do not know, O most beautiful of women, go follow the tracks of the flock and pasture your young goats next to the tents of the shepherds.”

“I liken you, my beloved, to a mare among the chariots of Pharaoh. Your cheeks are lovely with ornaments, your neck with strings of beads. We will make for you gold ornaments studded with silver.”

“While the king sits at his round table, my perfume gives off its fragrance. My dear one is to me like a fragrant bag of myrrh, spending the night between my breasts. My dear one is to me like a cluster of henna among the vineyards of En-gedi.”

“Look! You are beautiful, my beloved. Look! You are beautiful. Your eyes are those of doves.”

“Look! You are beautiful, my dear one, and delightful. Our bed is among the foliage. The beams of our house are cedars, our rafters are juniper trees.”

“I am but a saffron of the coastal plain, a lily of the valleys.”

“Like a lily among thorns is my beloved among the daughters.”

“Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my dear one among the sons. I passionately desire to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

He brought me into the banquet house, and his banner over me was love. Refresh me with raisin cakes; sustain me with apples, for I am lovesick.

His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me. I put you under oath, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and the does of the field: Do not try to awaken or arouse love in me until it feels inclined.”

“The sound of my dear one! Look! Here he comes, climbing the mountains, leaping over the hills. My dear one is like a gazelle, like a young stag. There he is, standing behind our wall, gazing through the windows, looking through the lattices.

My dear one speaks, he says to me: ‘Rise up, my beloved, my beautiful one, come away with me. Look! The winter has passed, the rains are over and gone. Blossoms have appeared in the land, the time of pruning has arrived, and the song of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree ripens its early figs; the vines are in blossom and give off their fragrance. Rise up, my beloved, and come. My beautiful one, come away with me.

O my dove, in the retreats of the crag, in the recesses of the cliff, let me see you and hear your voice, for your voice is pleasant and your appearance is lovely.’”

“Catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, for our vineyards are in bloom.

My dear one is mine and I am his. He is shepherding among the lilies. Until the day grows breezy and the shadows flee, return quickly, O my dear one, like the gazelle or the young stag upon the mountains of separation.”

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For dust we are, and to dust we return.

I took all of this to heart and concluded that the righteous and the wise, as well as their works, are in the hands of the true God.

Men are not aware of the love and the hate that took place prior to them.

All have the very same outcome — the righteous and the wicked, the good and the clean and the unclean, those sacrificing and those not sacrificing.

The good one is the same as the sinner; the one who swears an oath is the same as the one who is cautious about swearing an oath.

This is a distressing thing that happens under the sun: because all have the same outcome, the heart of humans is full of bad; there is madness in their heart during their life, and then they die.

There is hope for whoever is among the living, because a live dog is better off than a dead lion.

For the living know that they will die, but the dead know nothing at all, nor do they have any more reward, because all memory of them is forgotten.

Their love and their hate and their jealousy have already perished. They no longer have any share in what is done under the sun.

Go, eat your food with rejoicing, and drink your wine with a cheerful heart, for already the true God has found pleasure in your works.

May your clothing always be white, and do not fail to put oil on your head.

Enjoy life with your beloved wife all the days of your futile life, which He has given you under the sun— all the days of your futility— for that is your lot in life and in your hard work at which you toil under the sun.

Whatever your hand finds to do, do with all your might, for there is no work, nor planning, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the Grave, where you are going.

I have seen something further under the sun: the swift do not always win the race, nor do the mighty win the battle, nor do the wise always have the food, nor do the intelligent always have the riches, nor do those with knowledge always have success, because time and unexpected events overtake them all.

For man does not know his time. Just as fish are caught in an evil net, and birds are caught in a trap, so the sons of men are ensnared in a time of disaster, when it suddenly overtakes them.

I also observed this about wisdom under the sun— and it impressed me:

There was a small city with a few men in it, and a mighty king came against it, surrounded it, and built great siegeworks against it.

In it was found a poor but wise man, and he saved the city by his wisdom. But no one remembered that poor man.

And I said to myself: Wisdom is better than mightiness— yet a poor man’s wisdom is despised, and his words are not heeded.

Better to heed the calm words of the wise than the shouts of the one ruling among fools. Wisdom is better than weapons of war, but just one sinner can destroy much good.

As dead flies cause the perfumer’s oil to stink and bubble, so a little foolishness outweighs wisdom and glory.

The heart of the wise one leads him in the right way, but the heart of the stupid one leads him in the wrong way.

In whatever way the fool walks, he is lacking good sense, and he lets everyone know that he is a fool.

If the anger of a ruler should flare up against you, do not leave your place, for calmness allays great sins.

There is something distressing that I have seen under the sun, the sort of mistake made by those in power: Foolishness is put in many high positions, but the rich remain in low positions.

I have seen servants on horseback, but princes walking on foot just like servants.

The one who digs a pit may fall into it; the one who breaks through a stone wall may be bitten by a snake.

The one who quarries stones may be hurt by them, and the one who splits logs may be endangered by them.

If an iron tool is dull and one does not sharpen its edge, he will need to exert much effort. But wisdom helps to achieve success.

If the snake bites before it is charmed, there is no advantage to the skilled charmer.

The words from the mouth of the wise one bring favor, but the lips of the stupid one are his ruin.

The first words out of his mouth are foolishness, and his last words are disastrous madness. But the fool keeps on speaking.

A man does not know what will happen; who can tell him what will come after him?

The hard work of the stupid one wears him out, for he does not even know how to find his way to the city.

How terrible for a land when the king is a boy and the princes start their feasting in the morning!

How happy for the land when the king is the son of nobles, and the princes eat at the proper time for strength, not for drunkenness!

Because of extreme laziness, the roof beams sag, and because of idle hands, the house leaks.

Bread is made for laughter, and wine makes life enjoyable, but money answers every need.

Even in your thoughts, do not curse the king, and do not curse the rich in your bedroom; for a bird may convey the sound, or a creature with wings may repeat what was said.

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The way of the wise is a quiet strength, rooted in reverence, blooming in restraint.

A mild answer turns away rage, but a harsh word stirs up anger. The tongue of the wise makes good use of knowledge, but the mouth of the stupid blurts out foolishness. The eyes of Jehovah are everywhere, watching both the bad and the good.

A calm tongue is a tree of life, but twisted speech causes despair. A fool disrespects his father’s discipline, but a shrewd person accepts correction. In the house of the righteous one there is abundant treasure, but the produce of the wicked one brings him trouble.

The lips of the wise spread knowledge, but not so the heart of the stupid one. The sacrifice of the wicked is detestable to Jehovah, but the prayer of the upright is a pleasure to Him. Jehovah detests the way of the wicked one, but He loves the one who pursues righteousness.

Discipline seems bad to one forsaking the way, but whoever hates reproof will die. The Grave and the place of destruction are in full view of Jehovah—how much more so the hearts of men! The scoffer does not love the one correcting him; he will not consult the wise.

A joyful heart makes for a cheerful countenance, but heartache crushes the spirit. The understanding heart seeks knowledge, but the mouth of the stupid feeds on foolishness. All the days of the afflicted one are bad, but the one with a cheerful heart has a continual feast.

Better is a little in the fear of Jehovah than great wealth along with anxiety. Better is a dish of vegetables where there is love than a fattened bull where there is hatred. A hot-tempered man stirs up strife, but one who is slow to anger calms a quarrel.

The way of the lazy one is like a hedge of thorns, but the path of the upright is like a level highway. A wise son makes his father rejoice, but a stupid man despises his mother. Foolishness is a joy to one lacking good sense, but the man of discernment walks straight ahead.

Plans fail when there is no consultation, but there is accomplishment through many advisers. A man rejoices in giving the right answer, and a word spoken at the right time—how good it is! The path of life leads upward to one with insight, to turn him away from the Grave below.

Jehovah will tear down the house of the haughty, but He will preserve the boundary of the widow. Jehovah detests the schemes of the wicked one, but pleasant sayings are pure to Him. The one making dishonest profit brings trouble on his own household, but the one hating bribes will keep living.

The heart of the righteous one meditates before answering, but the mouth of the wicked blurts out bad things. Jehovah is far away from the wicked, but He hears the prayer of the righteous. Bright eyes make the heart rejoice; a good report invigorates the bones.

The one who listens to life-giving reproof is at home among the wise. Anyone refusing discipline despises his life, but whoever listens to reproof acquires understanding. The fear of Jehovah is a training in wisdom, and before glory there is humility.

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