Oh, 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. I would bring you to my childhood home, and there you would teach me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, my sweet pomegranate wine. Your left arm would be under my head, and your right arm would embrace me. Promise me, O women of Jerusalem, not to awaken love until the time is right.
Share
Read Song of Songs 8
Save verses, read offline, watch teaching clips, and more!
YouVersion uses cookies to personalize your experience. By using our website, you accept our use of cookies as described in our Privacy Policy
Home
Bible
Plans
Videos