Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex,alt.romance,alt.personals
From: noring@netcom.com (Jon Noring)
Subject: The Song of Solomon - Erotic poetry at its finest
Message-ID: <1993Jan15.210909.15432@netcom.com>
Organization: Netcom Online Communications Services (408-241-9760 login: guest)
Date: Fri, 15 Jan 1993 21:09:09 GMT
Lines: 555

Short Introduction

Just because this is from the Old Testament of the Bible, don't let it fool
you.  It is one of the finest erotic/romantic poems ever penned.  Unless you
knew it came from the Bible, you'd never know it since there is no mention
of God, nor is there any religious theology given except the beauty and
grandeur of human sexuality and erotic love.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
As an example of it's contents, here's the Man speaking in 7:6-9:

"How beautiful you are and how pleasing, O love, with your delights!  Your
stature is like that of the palm, and your breasts like clusters of fruit.
I said, 'I will climb the palm tree;  I will take hold of its fruit.'  May
your breasts be like the clusters of the vine, the fragrance of your breath
like apples, and your mouth like the best wine."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Enjoy!

Jon Noring


PLEASE, PLEASE don't post saying that this has figurative
religious significance - I know the views of The Church (tm) on this.
And if you decide to do so anyway, I'll guarantee that you'll see another
long post from me commenting on this very thing - it's already written and
ready to go.  I just don't want to include it here since it may have the
undesirable effect of dulling the erotic power of this poem.  But, it is
ready, just in case.  I suggest to those who hold that viewpoint to just
sit on your hands this time around.

Just ENJOY this poem for what it IS and keep Christian/Judaic theology
out of any discussion except for contextual/historical aspects.



"The Song of Solomon" also known as "The Song of Songs"
-------------------------------------------------------

(Note:  There are apparently three voices in the following Biblical erotic
poem, based on the gender of the Hebrew pronouns used in the original text.
They are the woman (the beloved), the man (the lover) and the woman's friends.
It is unclear if the 'king' referred to in the text is the same person as
the man.  Wherever there are difficulties in translation, or notes need to
be given, they are numbered in [..] and explained at the end of the text.)



Intro [1:1]     -  Solomon's Song of Songs.

Woman [1:2-4]   -  Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth -
                   for your love is more delightful than wine.
                   Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes;
                   your name is like perfume poured out.
                   No wonder the maidens love you!
                   Take me away with you - let us hurry!
                   The king has brought me into his chambers.

Friends [1:4]   -  We rejoice and delight in you;  [1]
                   we will praise your love more than wine.

Woman [1:4-7]   -  How right they are to adore you!
                   Dark am I, yet lovely,
                   O daughters of Jerusalem,
                   dark like the tents of Kedar,
                   like the tent curtains of Solomon.  [2]
                   Do not stare at me because I am dark,
                   because I am darkened by the sun.
                   My mother's sons were angry with me
                   and made me take care of the vineyards;
                   my own vineyard I have neglected.
                   Tell me, you whom I love, where you graze your flock
                   and where you rest your sheep at midday.
                   Why should I be like a veiled woman
                   beside the flocks of your friends?

Man [1:8-11]    -  If you do not know, most beautiful of women,
                   follow the tracks of the sheep
                   and graze your young goats
                   by the tents of the shepherds.
                   I liken you, my darling, to a mare
                   harnessed to one of the chariots of Pharaoh.
                   Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings,
                   your neck with strings of jewels.
                   We will make you earrings of gold, studded with silver.

Woman [1:12-14] -  While the king was at his table,
                   my perfume spread its fragrance.
                   My lover is to me a sachet of myrrh
                   resting between my breasts.
                   My lover is to me a cluster of henna blossoms
                   from the vineyards of En Gedi.

Man [1:15]      -  How beautiful you are, my darling!
                   Oh, how beautiful!
                   Your eyes are doves.

Woman [1:16]    -  How handsome you are, my lover!
                   Oh, how charming!
                   And our bed is verdant.

Man [1:17]      -  The beams of our house are cedars;
                   our rafters are firs.

Woman [2:1]     -  I am a rose of Sharon,  [3]
                   a lily of the valleys.

Man [2:2]       -  Like a lily among thorns
                   is my darling among the maidens.

Woman [2:3-13]  -  Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest
                   is my lover among the young men.
                   I delight to sit in his shade,
                   and his fruit is sweet to my taste.
                   He has taken me to the banquet hall,
                   and his banner over me is love,
                   Strengthen me with raisins,
                   refresh me with apples,
                   for I am faint with love.
                   His left arm is under my head,
                   and his right arm embraces me.
                   Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you
                   by the gazelles and by the does of the field:
                   Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.

                   Listen!  My lover!
                   Look!  Here he comes,
                   leaping across the mountains,
                   bounding over the hills.
                   My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag.
                   Look!  There he stands behind our wall,
                   gazing through the windows,
                   peering through the lattice.
                   My lover spoke and said to me,

                   "Arise, my darling,
                   my beautiful one, and come with me.
                   See!  The winter is past;
                   the rains are over and gone.
                   Flowers appear on the earth;
                   the season of singing has come,
                   the cooing of doves
                   is heard in our land.
                   The fig tree forms its early fruit;
                   the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
                   Arise, come, my darling;
                   my beautiful one, come with me."

Man [2:14-15]   -  My dove in the clefts of the rock,
                   in the hiding places on the mountainside,
                   show me your face,
                   let me hear your voice;
                   for your voice is sweet,
                   and your face is lovely.
                   Catch for us the foxes,
                   the little foxes
                   that ruin the vineyards,
                   our vineyards that are in bloom.

Woman [2:16-17,
       3:1-11]  -  My lover is mine and I am his;
                   he browses among the lilies.
                   Until the day breaks
                   and the shadows flee,
                   turn, my lover,
                   and be like a gazelle
                   or like a young stag
                   on the rugged hills.  [4]

                   All night long on my bed
                   I looked for the one my heart loves;
                   I looked for him but did not find him.
                   I will get up now and go about the city,
                   through its streets and squares;
                   I will search for the one my heart loves.
                   So I looked for him but did not find him.
                   The watchmen found me
                   as they made their rounds in the city.
                   "Have you seen the one my heart loves?"
                   Scarcely had I passed them
                   when I found the one my heart loves.
                   I held him and would not let him go
                   till I had brought him to my mother's house,
                   to the room of the one who conceived me.
                   Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you
                   by the gazelles and by the does of the field:
                   Do not arouse or awaken love
                   until it so desires.

                   Who is this coming up from the desert
                   like a column of smoke,
                   perfumed with myrrh and incense
                   made from all the spices of the merchant?
                   Look!  It is Solomon's carriage,
                   escorted by sixty warriors,
                   the noblest of Israel,
                   all of them wearing the sword,
                   all experienced in battle,
                   each with his sword at his side,
                   prepared for the terrors of the night.
                   King Solomon made for himself the carriage;
                   he made it of wood from Lebanon.
                   Its posts he made of silver,
                   its base of gold.
                   Its seat was upholstered with purple,
                   its interior lovingly inlaid
                   by the daughters of Jerusalem.  [5]
                   Come out, you daughters of Zion,
                   and look at King Solomon wearing the crown,
                   the crown with which his mother crowned him
                   on the day of his wedding,
                   the day his heart rejoiced.

Man [4:1-15]    -  How beautiful you are, my darling!
                   Oh, how beautiful!
                   Your eyes behind your veil are doves.
                   Your hair is like a flock of goats
                   descending from Mount Gilead.
                   Your teeth are like a flock of sheep just shorn,
                   coming up from the washing.
                   Each has its twin;
                   not one of them is alone.
                   Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon;
                   your mouth is lovely.
                   Your temples behind your veil
                   are like the halves of a pomegranate.
                   Your neck is like the tower of David,
                   built with elegance;  [6]
                   on it hang a thousand shields,
                   all of them shields of warriors.
                   Your two breasts are like two fawns,
                   like twin fawns of a gazelle
                   that browse among the lilies.
                   Until the day breaks
                   and the shadows flee,
                   I will go to the mountain of myrrh
                   and to the hill of incense.
                   All beautiful you are, my darling;
                   there is no flaw in you.

                   Come with me from Lebanon, my bride,
                   come with me from Lebanon.
                   Descend from the crest of Amana,
                   from the top of Senir, the summit of Hermon,
                   from the lions' dens
                   and the mountain haunts of the leopards.
                   You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride;
                   you have stolen my heart
                   with one glance of your eyes,
                   with one jewel of your necklace.
                   How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride!
                   How much more pleasing is your love than wine,
                   and the fragrance of your perfume than any spice!
                   Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride;
                   milk and honey are under your tongue.
                   The fragrance of your garments is like that of Lebanon.
                   You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride;
                   you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.
                   Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates
                   with choice fruits,
                   with henna and nard,
                   nard and saffron,
                   calamus and cinnamon,
                   with every kind of incense tree,
                   with myrrh and aloes
                   and all the finest spices.
                   You are a garden fountain,  [7]
                   a well of flowing water
                   streaming down from Lebanon.

Woman [4:16]    -  Awake, north wind,
                   and come, south wind!
                   Blow on my garden,
                   that its fragrance may spread abroad.
                   Let my lover come into his garden
                   and taste its choice fruits.

Man [5:1]       -  I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride;
                   I have gathered my myrrh with my spice.
                   I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey;
                   I have drunk my wine and my milk.

Friends [5:1]   -  Eat, O friends, and drink;
                   drink your fill, O lovers.

Woman [5:2-8]   -  I slept but my heart was awake.
                   Listen!  My lover is knocking:
                   "Open to me, my sister, my darling,
                   my dove, my flawless one.
                   My head is drenched with dew,
                   my hair with the dampness of the night."
                   I have taken off my robe -
                   must I put it on again?
                   I have washed my feet -
                   must I soil them again?
                   My lover thrust his hand through the latch-opening;
                   my heart began to pound for him.
                   I arose to open for my lover,
                   and my hands dripped with myrrh,
                   on the handles of the lock.
                   I opened for my lover,
                   but my lover had left;  he was gone.
                   My heart had gone out to him when he spoke.
                   I looked for him but did not find him.
                   I called him but he did not answer.
                   The watchmen found me
                   as they made their rounds in the city.
                   They beat me, they bruised me;
                   they took away my cloak,
                   those watchmen of the walls!
                   O daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you -
                   if you find my lover,
                   what will you tell him?
                   Tell him I am faint with love.

Friends [5:9]   -  How is your beloved better than others,
                   most beautiful of women?
                   How is your beloved better than others,
                   that you charge us so?

Woman [5:10-16] -  My lover is radiant and ruddy,
                   outstanding among ten thousand.
                   His head is purest gold;
                   his hair is wavy
                   and black as a raven.
                   His eyes are like doves
                   by the water streams,
                   washed in milk,
                   mounted like jewels.
                   His cheeks are like beds of spice
                   yielding perfume.
                   His lips are like lilies
                   dripping with myrrh.
                   His arms are rods of gold
                   set with chrysolite.
                   His body is like polished ivory
                   decorated with sapphires.  [8]
                   His legs are pillars of marble
                   set on bases of pure gold.
                   His appearance is like Lebanon,
                   choice as its cedars.
                   His mouth is sweetness itself;
                   he is altogether lovely.
                   This is my lover, this my friend,
                   O daughters of Jerusalem.

Friends [6:1]   -  Where has your lover gone,
                   most beautiful of women?
                   Which way did your lover turn,
                   that we may look for him with you?

Woman [6:2-3]   -  My lover has gone down to his garden,
                   to the beds of spices,
                   to browse in the gardens
                   and to gather lilies.
                   I am my lover's and my lover is mine;
                   he browses among the lilies.

Man [6:4-12]    -  You are beautiful, my darling, as Tirzah,
                   lovely as Jerusalem,
                   majestic as troops with banners.
                   Turn your eyes from me;
                   they overwhelm me.
                   Your hair is like a flock of goats
                   descending from Gilead.
                   Your teeth are like a flock of sheep
                   coming up from the washing.
                   Each has its twin,
                   not one of them is alone.
                   Your temples behind your veil
                   are like the halves of a pomegranate.
                   Sixty queens there may be,
                   and eighty concubines,
                   and virgins beyond number;
                   but my dove, my perfect one, is unique,
                   the only daughter of her mother,
                   the favorite of the one who bore her.
                   The maidens saw her and called her blessed;
                   the queens and concubines praised her.

                   Who is this that appears like the dawn,
                   fair as the moon, bright as the sun,
                   majestic as the stars in procession?

                   I went down to the grove of nut trees
                   to look at the new growth in the valley,
                   to see if the vines had budded
                   or the pomegranates were in bloom.
                   Before I realized it,
                   my desire set me among the royal chariots of my people.  [9]

Friends [6:13]  -  Come back, come back, O Shulammite;
                   come back, come back, that we may gaze on you!

Man [6:13-7:9]  -  Why would you gaze on the Shulammite
                   as on the dance of Mahanaim?

                   How beautiful your sandaled feet,
                   O prince's daughter!
                   Your graceful legs are like jewels,
                   the work of a craftsman's hands.
                   Your navel is a rounded goblet
                   that never lacks blended wine.
                   Your waist is a mound of wheat encircled by lilies.
                   Your breasts are like two fawns,
                   twins of a gazelle.
                   Your neck is like an ivory tower.
                   Your eyes are the pools of Heshbon
                   by the gate of Bath Rabbim.
                   Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon
                   looking toward Damascus.
                   Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel.
                   Your hair is like royal tapestry;
                   the king is held captive by its tresses.
                   How beautiful you are and how pleasing,
                   O love, with your delights!
                   Your stature is like that of the palm,
                   and your breasts like clusters of fruit.
                   I said, "I will climb the palm tree;
                   I will take hold of its fruit."
                   May your breasts be like the clusters of the vine,
                   the fragrance of your breath like apples,
                   and your mouth like the best wine.

Woman [7:9-8:4] -  May the wine go straight to my lover,
                   flowing gently over lips and teeth.  [10]
                   I belong to my lover,
                   and his desire is for me.
                   Come, my lover, let us go to the countryside,
                   let us spend the night in the villages.  [11]
                   Let us go early to the vineyards
                   to see if the vines have budded,
                   if their blossoms have opened,
                   and if the pomegranates are in bloom -
                   there I will give you my love.
                   The mandrakes send out their fragrance,
                   and at our door is every delicacy,
                   both new and old,
                   that I have stored up for you, my lover.

                   If only you were to me like a brother,
                   who was nursed at my mother's breasts!
                   Then, if I found you outside,
                   I would kiss you,
                   and no one would despise me.
                   I would lead you
                   and bring you to my mother's house -
                   she who has taught me.
                   I would give you spiced wine to drink,
                   the nectar of my pomegranates.
                   His left arm is under my head
                   and his right arm embraces me.
                   Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you:
                   Do not arouse or awaken love
                   until it so desires.

Friends [8:5]   -  Who is this coming up from the desert
                   leaning on her lover?

Woman [8:5-7]   -  Under the apple tree I roused you;
                   there your mother conceived you,
                   there she who was in labor gave you birth.
                   Place me like a seal over your heart,
                   like a seal over your arm;
                   for love is as strong as death,
                   its jealousy unyielding as the grave.  [12,13]
                   It burns like blazing fire,
                   like a mighty flame.  [14]
                   Many waters cannot quench love;
                   rivers cannot wash it away.
                   If one were to give
                   all the wealth of his house for love,
                   it would be utterly scorned.  [15]

Friends [8:8-9] -  We have a young sister,
                   and her breasts are not yet grown,
                   What shall we do for our sister
                   for the day she is spoken for?
                   If she is a wall,
                   we will build towers of silver on her.
                   If she is a door,
                   we will enclose her with panels of cedar.  [16]

Woman [8:10-12] -  I am a wall,
                   and my breasts are like towers.
                   Thus I have become in his eyes
                   like one bringing contentment.
                   Solomon had a vineyard in Baal Hamon;
                   he let out his vineyard to tenants.
                   Each was to bring for its fruit
                   a thousand shekels of silver.
                   But my own vineyard is mine to give;
                   the thousand shekels are for you,  [17]
                   O Solomon,
                   and two hundred are for those  [18]
                   who tend its fruit.

Man [8:13]      -  You who dwell in the gardens
                   with friends in attendance,
                   let me hear your voice!

Woman [8:14]    -  Come away, my lover,
                   and be like a gazelle
                   or like a young stag
                   on the spice-laden mountains.



Notes:
=====

[1]  In the Hebrew, the pronoun 'you' is masculine singular.
[2]  Or 'Salma'.
[3]  Possibly a member of the crocus family.
[4]  Or 'the hills of Bether'.
[5]  Or 'its inlaid interior a gift of love / from'.
[6]  The meaning of the Hebrew for this word (trans. as 'elegance')
     is uncertain.
[7]  Or 'I am' (spoken by the woman).
[8]  Or 'lapis lazuli'.
[9]  Or 'among the chariots of Amminadab';  or 'among the chariots of the
     people of the prince'.
[10] Septuagint, Aquila, Vulgate and Syriac;  Hebrew 'lips of sleepers'.
[11] Or 'henna bushes'.
[12] Alternative translation to 'jealousy' is 'ardor'.
[13] Hebrew 'Sheol'.
[14] Or 'like the very flame of the Lord'.
[15] Alternative translation to 'it' is 'he'.
[16] The original meaning of the metaphors 'wall', 'door' is not known.
[17] That is, about 25 pounds weight.
[18] That is, about 5 pounds weight.


End of the Song of Solomon

-- 
Charter Member of the INFJ Club.

Now, if you're just dying to know what INFJ stands for, be brave, e-mail me,
and I'll send you some information.  It WILL be worth the inquiry, I think.

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