Song of Songs 8

Young Woman

1Oh, I wish you were my brother,

who nursed at my mother’s breasts.

Then I could kiss you no matter who was watching,

and no one would criticize me.

2I would bring you to my childhood home,

and there you would teach me.*8:2 Or there she will teach me.

I would give you spiced wine to drink,

my sweet pomegranate wine.

3Your left arm would be under my head,

and your right arm would embrace me.

4Promise me, O women of Jerusalem,

not to awaken love until the time is right.*8:4 Or not to awaken love until it is ready.