Song of Songs 8:1-8

1If only you were my brother, one who nursed at my mother’s breasts. If I saw you on the street, I would kiss you, and no one would look down on me.

2I would lead you. I would bring you into my mother’s house. (She is the one who was my teacher.) I would give you some spiced wine to drink, some juice squeezed from my pomegranates.

3His left hand is under my head. His right hand caresses me.

4Young women of Jerusalem, swear to me that you will not awaken love or arouse love before its proper time!

5Who is this young woman coming from the wilderness with her arm around her beloved? Under the apple tree I woke you up. There your mother went into labor with you. There she went into labor and gave birth to you!

6Wear me as a signet ring on your heart, as a ring on your hand. Love is as overpowering as death. Devotion is as unyielding as the grave. Love’s flames are flames of fire, flames that come from the Lord.

7Raging water cannot extinguish love, and rivers will never wash it away. If a man exchanged all his family’s wealth for love, people would utterly despise him.

8We have a little sister, and she has no breasts. What will we do for our sister on the day she becomes engaged?