The Song of Songs 1:6

1:6 Do not stare at me because I am dark,

for the sun has burned my skin.

My brothers were angry with me;

they made me the keeper of the vineyards.

Alas, my own vineyard I could not keep!

The Song of Songs 8:1

The Beloved’s Wish Song

The Beloved to Her Lover:

8:1 Oh, how I wish you were my little brother,

nursing at my mother’s breasts;

if I saw you outside, I could kiss you –

surely no one would despise me!