Excerpts from The Song of Songs, as translated by Chana and Ariel Bloch
Now he has brought me to the house of wine,
and his flag over me is love.
Let me lie among vine blossoms,
in a bed of apricots!
I am in the fever of love.
His left hand beneath my head,
his right arm
holding me close.
Daughters of Jerusalem, swear to me
by the gazelles, by the deer in the field,
that you will never awaken love
until it is ripe.
Look, winter is over,
the rains are done,
wildflowers spring up in the fields.
Now is the time of the nightingale.
In every meadow you hear
the song of the turtledove.
The fig tree has sweetened
its new green fruit
and the young budded vines smell spicy.
Hurry, my love, my friend
and come away.
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