To the Chief Musician. Concerning the Lilies, for the sons of Korah, a contemplation; A Song of Loves. My heart is overflowing with a good matter; I speak of my works to the King; my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.
I sleep, but my heart is awake. It is the sound of my Beloved that knocks, saying, Open to Me, My sister, My love, My dove, My undefiled; for My head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.
Israel is a luxuriant vine; he brings out fruit to himself. According to the multitude of his fruit, he has increased the altars. They have made beautiful images according to the goodness of his land.
Hear another parable. There was a certain housemaster who planted a vineyard and hedged it round about, and dug a winepress in it, and built a tower, and rented it to vinedressers, and went into a far country.
And He began to speak to them by parables. A man planted a vineyard, and set a fence about it, and dug a wine-vat, and built a tower, and he let it out to vinedressers, and went away.
And He began to speak to the people this parable: A certain man planted a vineyard and let it out to vinedressers. And he went into a far country for a long time.