[To the Chief Musician upon shoshannim, for the Sons of Korah, a maschil, a song of loves.] My heart is overflowing with a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made concerning the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready scribe.
I sleep, but my heart wakes: it is the voice of my beloved that knocks, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one: for my head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night.
Israel is an empty vine, he brings forth fruit unto himself: according to the multitude of his fruit he has increased the altars; according to the goodness of his land they have made goodly images.
Hear another parable: There was a certain householder, who planted a vineyard, and hedged it round about, and dug a wine press in it, and built a tower, and let it out to tenants, and went into a far country:
And he began to speak unto them by parables. A certain man planted a vineyard, and set a hedge about it, and dug a place for the winepress, and built a tower, and let it out to tenants, and went into a far country.
Then began he to speak to the people this parable; A certain man planted a vineyard, and let it out to tenants, and went into a far country for a long time.