The Beloved to Her Lover: Oh, how I wish you were ¹  my little brother, ²  nursing at my mother’s breasts; if I saw ³  you outside, I could kiss you – surely ⁴  no one would despise me! ⁵ 

The Beloved’s Brothers: We have a little sister, and as yet she has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister on the day when she is spoken for? ¹ 

Do not stare at me because ¹  I am dark, for ²  the sun has burned my skin. ³  My brothers ⁴  were angry ⁵  with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards. Alas, my own vineyard ⁶  I could not keep! ⁷ 

The Beloved to Her Lover: Catch ¹  the foxes ²  for us, the little foxes, ³  that ruin the vineyards ⁴  – for our vineyard is in bloom.