“I am black but lovely, O daughters of Jerusalem, Like the tents of Kedar, Like the curtains of Solomon. Do not stare at me because I am swarthy, For the sun has burned me. My mother’s sons were angry with me; They made me caretaker of the vineyards, But I have not taken care of my own vineyard. Tell me, O you whom my soul loves, Where do you pasture your flock, Where do you make it lie down at noon? For why should I be like one who veils herself Beside the flocks of your companions?” “If you yourself do not know, Most beautiful among women, Go forth on the trail of the flock And pasture your young goats By the tents of the shepherds. “To me, my darling, you are like My mare among the chariots of Pharaoh. Your cheeks are lovely with ornaments, Your neck with strings of beads.” “We will make for you ornaments of gold With beads of silver.” “While the king was at his table, My perfume gave forth its fragrance.
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