Yes, and yours are, too—my love’s kisses
    flow from his lips to mine.
I am my lover’s.
    I’m all he wants. I’m all the world to him!
Come, dear lover—
    let’s tramp through the countryside.
Let’s sleep at some wayside inn,
    then rise early and listen to bird-song.
Let’s look for wildflowers in bloom,
    blackberry bushes blossoming white,
Fruit trees festooned
    with cascading flowers.
And there I’ll give myself to you,
    my love to your love!

¹³ Love-apples drench us with fragrance,
    fertility surrounds, suffuses us,
Fruits fresh and preserved
    that I’ve kept and saved just for you, my love.

8 ^1-2 I wish you’d been my twin brother,
    sharing with me the breasts of my mother,
Playing outside in the street,
    kissing in plain view of everyone,
    and no one thinking anything of it.
I’d take you by the hand and bring you home
    where I was raised by my mother.
You’d drink my wine
    and kiss my cheeks.

^3-4 Imagine! His left hand cradling my head,
    his right arm around my waist!
Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem:
    Don’t excite love, don’t stir it up,
    until the time is ripe—and you’re ready.