¹ I was beside myself with joy! ²  There please give me your myrrh, ³  O daughter of my princely people. ⁴ 

Surging waters cannot quench love; floodwaters ¹  cannot overflow it. If someone were to offer all his possessions ²  to buy love, ³  the offer ⁴  would be utterly despised. ⁵ 

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 Lover to His Beloved: If you do not know, O most beautiful of women, simply follow the tracks of my flock, and pasture your little lambs beside the tents of the shepherds.

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