Young's Literal Translation

Song of Songs 8

The love of the Church to Christ.

Song of Songs 8:1 Who doth make thee as a brother to me, Sucking the breasts of my mother? I find thee without, I kiss thee, Yea, they do not despise me, Song of Songs 8:2 I lead thee, I bring thee in unto my mother's house, She doth teach me, I cause thee to drink of the perfumed wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate, Song of Songs 8:3 His left hand [is] under my head, And his right doth embrace me. Song of Songs 8:4 I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, How ye stir up, And how ye wake the love till she please! Song of Songs 8:5 Who [is] this coming from the wilderness, Hasting herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have waked thee, There did thy mother pledge thee, There she gave a pledge [that] bare thee.

The vehemency of love.

Song of Songs 8:6 Set me as a seal on thy heart, as a seal on thine arm, For strong as death is love, Sharp as Sheol is jealousy, Its burnings [are] burnings of fire, a flame of Jah! Song of Songs 8:7 Many waters are not able to quench the love, And floods do not wash it away. If one give all the wealth of his house for love, Treading down—they tread upon it.

The calling of the Gentiles.

Song of Songs 8:8 We have a little sister, and breasts she hath not, What do we do for our sister, In the day that it is told of her? Song of Songs 8:9 If she is a wall, we build by her a palace of silver. And if she is a door, We fashion by her board-work of cedar. Song of Songs 8:10 I [am] a wall, and my breasts as towers, Then I have been in his eyes as one finding peace. Song of Songs 8:11 Solomon hath a vineyard in Baal-Hamon, He hath given the vineyard to keepers, Each bringeth for its fruit a thousand silverlings; Song of Songs 8:12 My vineyard—my own—is before me, The thousand [is] for thee, O Solomon. And the two hundred for those keeping its fruit. O dweller in gardens! Song of Songs 8:13 The companions are attending to thy voice, Cause me to hear. Flee, my beloved, and be like to a roe,

The Church prayeth for Christ's coming.

Song of Songs 8:14 Or to a young one of the harts on mountains of spices!

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