Hebrew Love Songs
Introduction
The Hebrew love
songs in the collection known as the Song of Songs appear to be part of a
song tradition whose style has evolved out of praise songs from Mesopotamia,
Egypt, and possibly the Indian subcontinent. Some of the songs are like those
found a century ago in Syrian wedding ceremonies extending over several days,
during which the bride and groom take on the roles of king and queen. When the
Hebrew songs are compared with Sumer, Tamil and Egyptian love songs, they are more lyrical and polished—as might be expected
as the skills of poets evolved over time, building on the techniques
established by their predecessors. The language in the Hebrew songs suggest
this collection was compiled in the third century BCE.
This date suggests that the attribution of their authorship to Solomon,
who died in 973 BCE, at the head of the verses, is an editorial device to
improve their acceptance. Having many wives, Solomon may perhaps have been an
expert on love songs. This does raise the thought, however, that other
editing may have been applied. The title Song of Songs in the idiom of the
time means the best song, but the editor may also have been making a play on
words.
Arguments have been put forward that the collection of songs is an
allegory, in which passionate eroticism is to be read as spiritual
intoxication. Such an interpretation reflects perhaps more on the nature of
its proponents than on the nature of the songs. In allegory there are always
strong hints that steer the reader from the superficial reading to a deeper
one. Such hints are absent from this collection.
A few of the songs have been extracted here, with
the praise poems placed first, then the loss or betrayal poems, and finally the
poems of joy at being together. These familiar groupings have appeared
throughout history, and are still used today. The extracts are, of course,
part of a much larger compilation that is readily available. An indication is
given whether a poem is spoken by a man or a woman.
Fragments from the Song of Songs
1 She:
Hark! My beloved! Here he comes,
bounding over the mountains, leaping over the hills.
My beloved is like a gazelle
or a young wild goat:
there he stands outside our wall,
peeping in at the windows, glancing through the lattice.
My beloved answered, he said to me:
Rise up, my darling;
my fairest, come away.
For now the winter is past,
the rains are over and gone;
the flowers appear in the countryside;
the time is coming when the birds will sing,
and the turtle-dove's cooing will be heard in our land;
when the green figs will ripen on the fig trees
and the vine blossoms a give forth their fragrance.
Rise up, my darling;
my fairest, come away.
2 He:
My dove, that hides in holes in the cliffs
or in crannies on the high ledges,
let me see your face, let me hear your voice
for your voice is pleasant, your face is lovely.
You are beautiful, my dearest, as Tirzah,
lovely as Jerusalem.
Turn your eyes away from me;
they dazzle me.
Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down Mount Gilead;
your teeth are like a flock of ewes come up fresh from the dipping,
Each ewe has twins and none has cast a lamb.
Your parted lips behind your veil
are like a pomegranate cut open.
There may be sixty princesses,
eighty concubines, and young women past counting,
but there is one alone, my dove, my perfect one,
her mother's only child,
devoted to the mother who bore her;
young girls see her and call her happy,
princesses and concubines praise her.
Who is this that looks out like the dawn,
beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun,
majestic as the starry heavens?
I would compare you, my dearest,
to Pharaoh's chariot horses.
Your cheeks are lovely between plaited tresses,
your neck with its jeweled chains.
How beautiful you are, my dearest,
O how beautiful,
your eyes are like doves!
3 She:
My beloved is fair and ruddy,
a paragon among ten thousand.
His head is gold, finest gold;
his locks are like palm fronds, black as raven.
His eyes are like doves beside brooks of water,
splashed by the milky water
as they sit where it is drawn.
His cheeks are like beds of spices or chests full of perfumes;
his lips are lilies, and drop liquid myrrh;
his hands are golden rods set in topaz;
his belly a plaque of ivory overlaid with lapis lazuli.
His legs are pillars of marble in sockets of finest gold;
his aspect is like Lebanon, noble as cedars.
His nature is sweetness itself, wholly desirable.
Such is my beloved, such is my darling,
daughters of Jerusalem.
How beautiful you are, O my love,
and how pleasant!
4 She:
I am an asphodel in Sharon,
a lily growing in the valley.
He:
No, a lily among thorns
is my dearest among girls.
She:
My beloved is mine and I am his;
he delights in the lilies.
While the day is cool and the shadows are dispersing,
turn, my beloved, and show yourself
a gazelle or a young wild goat
on the rugged hills.
5 He:
How beautiful you are, my dearest, how beautiful!
Your eyes behind your veil are like doves,
your hair like a flock of goats streaming down Mount Gilead.
Your teeth are like a flock of ewes just shorn
which have come up fresh from the dipping;
each ewe has twins and none has cast a lamb.
Your lips are like a scarlet thread,
and your mouth is lovely ;
your parted lips behind your veil
are like a pomegranate cut open.
Your neck is like David's tower,
which is built with winding courses;
a thousand bucklers hang upon it,
and all are warriors' shields.
Your two breasts are like two fawns,
twin fawns of a gazelle,
which delight in the lilies.
While the day is cool and the shadows are dispersing,
I will go to the mountains of myrrh
and to the hills of frankincense.
You are beautiful, my dearest,
beautiful without a flaw.
6 She:
If only you were my own true brother
that sucked my mother's breasts!
Then, if I found you outside, I would kiss you,
and no man would despise me.
I would lead you to the room of the mother who bore me,
bring you to her house for you to embrace me;
I would give you mulled wine to drink
and the fresh juice of pomegranates,
your left arm under my head and your right arm round me
7 He:
You have stolen my heart, my sister,
you have stolen it, my bride,
with one of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace.
How beautiful are your breasts, my sister, my bride!
Your love is more fragrant than wine,
and your perfumes sweeter than any spices.
Your lips drop sweetness like the honeycomb, my bride,
syrup and milk are under your tongue,
and your dress has the scent of Lebanon.
Your two checks are an orchard of pomegranates,
an orchard full of rare fruits:
spikenard and saffron, sweet cane and cinnamon
with every incense-bearing tree,
myrrh and aloes
with all the choicest spices.
My sister, my bride, is a garden close-locked,
a garden close-locked, a fountain sealed.
8 She:
The fountain in my garden is a spring of running water
pouring down from Lebanon.
Awake, north wind, and come, south wind;
blow upon my garden that its perfumes may pour forth,
that my beloved may come to his garden
and enjoy its rare fruits.
9 He:
How beautiful are your sandaled feet, O prince's daughter!
The curves of your thighs are like jewels,
the work of a skilled craftsman.
Your navel is a rounded goblet
that never shall want for spiced wine.
Your belly is a heap of wheat
fenced in by lilies.
Your two breasts are like two fawns,
twin fawns of a gazelle.
Your neck is like a tower of ivory.
Your eyes are the pools in Heshbon,
beside the gate of the gate of Beth-rabbim.
Your nose is like towering Lebanon
that looks towards Damascus.
You carry your head like Carmel;
the flowing hair on your head is lustrous black,
your tresses are braided with ribbons.
How beautiful, how entrancing you are,
my loved one, daughter of delights!
You are stately as a palm tree,
and your breasts are the clusters of dates.
I said, 'I will climb up into the palm
to grasp its fronds.'
May I find your breasts like clusters of grapes on the vine,
the scent of your breath like apricots,
and your whispers like spiced wine
flowing smoothly to welcome my caresses,
gliding down through lips and teeth.
10 She:
I am my beloved's, his longing is all for me.
Come, my beloved, let us go out into the fields
to lie among the henna bushes;
let us go early to the vineyards
and see if the vine has budded or its blossom opened,
if the pomegranates are in flower.
There will I give you my love,
when the mandrakes give their perfume,
and all rare fruits are ready at our door,
fruits new and old which I have in store for you, my love.
He:
Our couch is shaded with branches;
the beams of our house are of cedar,
our ceilings are all of fir.
11 She:
I sleep but my heart is awake.
Listen! My beloved is knocking:
He:
Open to me, my sister, my dearest,
my dove, my perfect one;
for my head is drenched with dew,
my locks with the moisture of the night.
She:
I have stripped off my dress; must I put it on again?
I have washed my feet; must I soil them again?
When my beloved slipped his hand through the latch-hole,
my bowels stirred within me.
When I arose to open for my beloved,
my hands dripped with myrrh;
the liquid myrrh from my fingers
ran over the knobs of the bolt.
12 She:
With my own hands I opened to my love,
but my love had turned away and gone by;
my heart sank when he turned his back.
I sought him but I did not find him,
I called him but he did not answer.
The watchmen, going the rounds of the city, met me;
they struck me and wounded me;
the watchmen on the walls took away my cloak.
I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem,
if you find my beloved, will you not tell him
that I am faint with love?
My beloved is for me a bunch of myrrh
as he lies on my breast,
my beloved is for me a cluster of henna blossom
from the vineyards of En-gedi.
He took me into the wine garden
and gave me loving glances.
He refreshed me with raisins, he revived me with apricots;
for I was faint with love.
His left arm was under my head, his right arm was round me.
Like an apricot tree among the trees of the wood,
so is my beloved among boys.
To sit in its shadow was my delight,
and its fruit was sweet to my taste.
Night after night on my bed
I have sought my true love;
I have sought him but not found him,
I have called him but he has not answered.
I said, 'I will rise and go the rounds of the city,
through the streets and the squares,
seeking my true love.'
I sought him but I did not find him,
I called him but he did not answer.
The watchmen, going the rounds of the city, met me,
and I asked, 'Have you seen my true love?'
Scarcely had I left them behind me
when I met my true love.
I seized him and would not let him go
until I had brought him to my mother's house,
to the room of her who conceived me.
13 He:
Wear me as a seal upon your heart,
as a seal upon your arm;
for love is strong as death,
passion cruel as the grave;
it blazes up like blazing fire,
fiercer than any flame.
Many waters cannot quench love,
no flood can sweep it away;
if a man were to offer for love
the whole wealth of his house,
it would be utterly scorned.
14 She:
Your love is more fragrant than wine,
fragrant is the scent of your perfume,
and your name like perfume poured out;
for this the maidens love you.
15 She:
I am a wall and my breasts are like towers;
so in his eyes I am as one who brings contentment.
Sources
The New English Bible. Oxford University Press and Cambridge University Press, 1970. Pp 797-807.An electronic text of the King James Version of The Bible is available via FTP from Project Gutenberg.
Encyclopaedia Britannica, Eleventh Edition. The Encyclopaedia Britannica Company, New York, 1910.