your lovely hind, your graceful doe. Of whose love you will ever have your fill, and by her ardor always be intoxicated.
Now, a visitor came to the rich man, but he spared his own flocks and herds to prepare a meal for the traveler who had come to him: he took the poor man’s ewe lamb and prepared it for the one who had come to him.”
Drink water from your own cistern, running water from your own well.
Why then, my son, should you be intoxicated with a stranger, and embrace another woman?
Until the day grows cool and the shadows flee, roam, my lover, Like a gazelle or a young stag upon the rugged mountains.
My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. See! He is standing behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattices.
Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle feeding among the lilies.
Your valley, a round bowl that should never lack mixed wine. Your belly, a mound of wheat, encircled with lilies.
W Swiftly, my lover, be like a gazelle or a young stag upon the mountains of spices.