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The Women of Song of Songs - An Introduction

... כָּל כִּתְבֵי הַקֹּדֶשׁ מְטַמְּאִין אֶת הַיָּדַיִם. שִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים וְקֹהֶלֶת מְטַמְּאִין אֶת הַיָּדַיִם. רַבִּי יְהוּדָה אוֹמֵר, שִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים מְטַמֵּא אֶת הַיָּדַיִם, וְקֹהֶלֶת מַחֲלֹקֶת. רַבִּי יוֹסֵי אוֹמֵר, קֹהֶלֶת אֵינוֹ מְטַמֵּא אֶת הַיָּדַיִם וְשִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים מַחֲלֹקֶת. אָמַר רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן עַזַּאי, מְקֻבָּל אֲנִי מִפִּי שִׁבְעִים וּשְׁנַיִם זָקֵן, בַּיּוֹם שֶׁהוֹשִׁיבוּ אֶת רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר בֶּן עֲזַרְיָה בַּיְשִׁיבָה, שֶׁשִּׁיר הַשִּׁירִים וְקֹהֶלֶת מְטַמְּאִים אֶת הַיָּדַיִם. אָמַר רַבִּי עֲקִיבָא, חַס וְשָׁלוֹם, לֹא נֶחֱלַק אָדָם מִיִּשְׂרָאֵל עַל שִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים שֶׁלֹּא תְטַמֵּא אֶת הַיָּדַיִם, שֶׁאֵין כָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ כְדַאי כַּיּוֹם שֶׁנִּתַּן בּוֹ שִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים לְיִשְׂרָאֵל, שֶׁכָּל הַכְּתוּבִים קֹדֶשׁ, וְשִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים קֹדֶשׁ קָדָשִׁים...

...All the Holy Scriptures defile the hands. The Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes defile the hands. Rabbi Judah says: the Song of Songs defiles the hands, but there is a dispute about Ecclesiastes. Rabbi Yosei says: Ecclesiastes does not defile the hands, but there is a dispute about the Song of Songs... Rabbi Shimon ben Azzai said: I have received a tradition from the seventy-two elders on the day when they appointed Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah head of the academy that the Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes defile the hands. Rabbi Akiva said: Far be it! No one in Israel disputed the Song of Songs [saying] that it does not defile the hands. For the whole world is not as worthy as the day on which the Song of Songs was given to Israel; for all the writings are holy but the Song of Songs is the holy of holies...

תנו רבנן הקורא פסוק של שיר השירים ועושה אותו כמין זמר והקורא פסוק בבית משתאות בלא זמנו מביא רעה לעולם מפני שהתורה חוגרת שק ועומדת לפני הקב"ה ואומרת לפניו רבונו של עולם עשאוני בניך ככנור שמנגנין בו לצים

§ The Sages taught: One who reads a verse from Song of Songs and renders it a form of secular song, and not a sacred text, and one who reads any biblical verse at a banquet house, not at its appropriate time, but merely as a song, introduces evil to the world, as the Torah girds itself with sackcloth and stands before the Holy Blessed One and says: Master of the Universe, Your children have rendered me like a harp on which clowns play.

שִׁ֥יר הַשִּׁירִ֖ים אֲשֶׁ֥ר לִשְׁלֹמֹֽה׃ יִשָּׁקֵ֙נִי֙ מִנְּשִׁיק֣וֹת פִּ֔יהוּ כִּֽי־טוֹבִ֥ים דֹּדֶ֖יךָ מִיָּֽיִן׃ לְרֵ֙יחַ֙ שְׁמָנֶ֣יךָ טוֹבִ֔ים שֶׁ֖מֶן תּוּרַ֣ק שְׁמֶ֑ךָ עַל־כֵּ֖ן עֲלָמ֥וֹת אֲהֵבֽוּךָ׃ מָשְׁכֵ֖נִי אַחֲרֶ֣יךָ נָּר֑וּצָה הֱבִיאַ֨נִי הַמֶּ֜לֶךְ חֲדָרָ֗יו נָגִ֤ילָה וְנִשְׂמְחָה֙ בָּ֔ךְ נַזְכִּ֤ירָה דֹדֶ֙יךָ֙ מִיַּ֔יִן מֵישָׁרִ֖ים אֲהֵבֽוּךָ׃ (ס) שְׁחוֹרָ֤ה אֲנִי֙ וְֽנָאוָ֔ה בְּנ֖וֹת יְרוּשָׁלִָ֑ם כְּאָהֳלֵ֣י קֵדָ֔ר כִּירִיע֖וֹת שְׁלֹמֹֽה׃
The Song of Songs, by Solomon. Oh, give me of the kisses of your mouth, For your love is more delightful than wine. Your ointments yield a sweet fragrance, Your name is like finest oil— Therefore do maidens love you. Draw me after you, let us run! The king has brought me to his chambers. Let us delight and rejoice in your love, Savoring it more than wine— Like new wine they love you! I am dark, but comely, O daughters of Jerusalem— Like the tents of Kedar, Like the pavilions of Solomon.
הִנָּ֤ךְ יָפָה֙ רַעְיָתִ֔י הִנָּ֥ךְ יָפָ֖ה עֵינַ֥יִךְ יוֹנִֽים׃ הִנְּךָ֨ יָפֶ֤ה דוֹדִי֙ אַ֣ף נָעִ֔ים אַף־עַרְשֵׂ֖נוּ רַעֲנָנָֽה׃
Ah, you are fair, my darling, Ah, you are fair, With your dove-like eyes! And you, my beloved, are handsome, Beautiful indeed! Our couch is in a bower;
אֲנִי֙ חֲבַצֶּ֣לֶת הַשָּׁר֔וֹן שֽׁוֹשַׁנַּ֖ת הָעֲמָקִֽים׃ כְּשֽׁוֹשַׁנָּה֙ בֵּ֣ין הַחוֹחִ֔ים כֵּ֥ן רַעְיָתִ֖י בֵּ֥ין הַבָּנֽוֹת׃ כְּתַפּ֙וּחַ֙ בַּעֲצֵ֣י הַיַּ֔עַר כֵּ֥ן דּוֹדִ֖י בֵּ֣ין הַבָּנִ֑ים בְּצִלּוֹ֙ חִמַּ֣דְתִּי וְיָשַׁ֔בְתִּי וּפִרְי֖וֹ מָת֥וֹק לְחִכִּֽי׃ הֱבִיאַ֙נִי֙ אֶל־בֵּ֣ית הַיָּ֔יִן וְדִגְל֥וֹ עָלַ֖י אַהֲבָֽה׃ סַמְּכ֙וּנִי֙ בָּֽאֲשִׁישׁ֔וֹת רַפְּד֖וּנִי בַּתַּפּוּחִ֑ים כִּי־חוֹלַ֥ת אַהֲבָ֖ה אָֽנִי׃ שְׂמֹאלוֹ֙ תַּ֣חַת לְרֹאשִׁ֔י וִימִינ֖וֹ תְּחַבְּקֵֽנִי׃ הִשְׁבַּ֨עְתִּי אֶתְכֶ֜ם בְּנ֤וֹת יְרוּשָׁלִַ֙ם֙ בִּצְבָא֔וֹת א֖וֹ בְּאַיְל֣וֹת הַשָּׂדֶ֑ה אִם־תָּעִ֧ירוּ ׀ וְֽאִם־תְּעֽוֹרְר֛וּ אֶת־הָאַהֲבָ֖ה עַ֥ד שֶׁתֶּחְפָּֽץ׃ (ס) ק֣וֹל דּוֹדִ֔י הִנֵּה־זֶ֖ה בָּ֑א מְדַלֵּג֙ עַל־הֶ֣הָרִ֔ים מְקַפֵּ֖ץ עַל־הַגְּבָעֽוֹת׃ דּוֹמֶ֤ה דוֹדִי֙ לִצְבִ֔י א֖וֹ לְעֹ֣פֶר הָֽאַיָּלִ֑ים הִנֵּה־זֶ֤ה עוֹמֵד֙ אַחַ֣ר כָּתְלֵ֔נוּ מַשְׁגִּ֙יחַ֙ מִן־הַֽחֲלֹּנ֔וֹת מֵצִ֖יץ מִן־הַֽחֲרַכִּֽים׃ עָנָ֥ה דוֹדִ֖י וְאָ֣מַר לִ֑י ק֥וּמִי לָ֛ךְ רַעְיָתִ֥י יָפָתִ֖י וּלְכִי־לָֽךְ׃ כִּֽי־הִנֵּ֥ה הסתו [הַסְּתָ֖יו] עָבָ֑ר הַגֶּ֕שֶׁם חָלַ֖ף הָלַ֥ךְ לֽוֹ׃ הַנִּצָּנִים֙ נִרְא֣וּ בָאָ֔רֶץ עֵ֥ת הַזָּמִ֖יר הִגִּ֑יעַ וְק֥וֹל הַתּ֖וֹר נִשְׁמַ֥ע בְּאַרְצֵֽנוּ׃ הַתְּאֵנָה֙ חָֽנְטָ֣ה פַגֶּ֔יהָ וְהַגְּפָנִ֥ים ׀ סְמָדַ֖ר נָ֣תְנוּ רֵ֑יחַ ק֥וּמִי לכי [לָ֛ךְ] רַעְיָתִ֥י יָפָתִ֖י וּלְכִי־לָֽךְ׃ (ס) יוֹנָתִ֞י בְּחַגְוֵ֣י הַסֶּ֗לַע בְּסֵ֙תֶר֙ הַמַּדְרֵגָ֔ה הַרְאִ֙ינִי֙ אֶתּ־מַרְאַ֔יִךְ הַשְׁמִיעִ֖ינִי אֶת־קוֹלֵ֑ךְ כִּי־קוֹלֵ֥ךְ עָרֵ֖ב וּמַרְאֵ֥יךְ נָאוֶֽה׃ (ס) אֶֽחֱזוּ־לָ֙נוּ֙ שֽׁוּעָלִ֔ים שֽׁוּעָלִ֥ים קְטַנִּ֖ים מְחַבְּלִ֣ים כְּרָמִ֑ים וּכְרָמֵ֖ינוּ סְמָדַֽר׃ דּוֹדִ֥י לִי֙ וַאֲנִ֣י ל֔וֹ הָרֹעֶ֖ה בַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּֽים׃ עַ֤ד שֶׁיָּפ֙וּחַ֙ הַיּ֔וֹם וְנָ֖סוּ הַצְּלָלִ֑ים סֹב֩ דְּמֵה־לְךָ֨ דוֹדִ֜י לִצְבִ֗י א֛וֹ לְעֹ֥פֶר הָאַיָּלִ֖ים עַל־הָ֥רֵי בָֽתֶר׃ (ס)
I am a rose of Sharon, A lily of the valleys. Like a lily among thorns, So is my darling among the maidens. Like an apple tree among trees of the forest, So is my beloved among the youths. I delight to sit in his shade, And his fruit is sweet to my mouth. He brought me to the banquet room And his banner of love was over me. “Sustain me with raisin cakes, Refresh me with apples, For I am faint with love.” His left hand was under my head, His right arm embraced me. I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem, By gazelles or by hinds of the field: Do not wake or rouse Love until it please! Hark! My beloved! There he comes, Leaping over mountains, Bounding over hills. My beloved is like a gazelle Or like a young stag. There he stands behind our wall, Gazing through the window, Peering through the lattice. My beloved spoke thus to me, “Arise, my darling; My fair one, come away! For now the winter is past, The rains are over and gone. The blossoms have appeared in the land, The time of pruning has come; The song of the turtledove Is heard in our land. The green figs form on the fig tree, The vines in blossom give off fragrance. Arise, my darling; My fair one, come away! “O my dove, in the cranny of the rocks, Hidden by the cliff, Let me see your face, Let me hear your voice; For your voice is sweet And your face is comely.” Catch us the foxes, The little foxes That ruin the vineyards— For our vineyard is in blossom. My beloved is mine And I am his Who browses among the lilies. When the day blows gently And the shadows flee, Set out, my beloved, Swift as a gazelle Or a young stag, For the hills of spices!
עַל־מִשְׁכָּבִי֙ בַּלֵּיל֔וֹת בִּקַּ֕שְׁתִּי אֵ֥ת שֶׁאָהֲבָ֖ה נַפְשִׁ֑י בִּקַּשְׁתִּ֖יו וְלֹ֥א מְצָאתִֽיו׃ אָק֨וּמָה נָּ֜א וַאֲסוֹבְבָ֣ה בָעִ֗יר בַּשְּׁוָקִים֙ וּבָ֣רְחֹב֔וֹת אֲבַקְשָׁ֕ה אֵ֥ת שֶׁאָהֲבָ֖ה נַפְשִׁ֑י בִּקַּשְׁתִּ֖יו וְלֹ֥א מְצָאתִֽיו׃ מְצָא֙וּנִי֙ הַשֹּׁ֣מְרִ֔ים הַסֹּבְבִ֖ים בָּעִ֑יר אֵ֛ת שֶׁאָהֲבָ֥ה נַפְשִׁ֖י רְאִיתֶֽם׃ כִּמְעַט֙ שֶׁעָבַ֣רְתִּי מֵהֶ֔ם עַ֣ד שֶֽׁמָּצָ֔אתִי אֵ֥ת שֶׁאָהֲבָ֖ה נַפְשִׁ֑י אֲחַזְתִּיו֙ וְלֹ֣א אַרְפֶּ֔נּוּ עַד־שֶׁ֤הֲבֵיאתִיו֙ אֶל־בֵּ֣ית אִמִּ֔י וְאֶל־חֶ֖דֶר הוֹרָתִֽי׃ הִשְׁבַּ֨עְתִּי אֶתְכֶ֜ם בְּנ֤וֹת יְרוּשָׁלִַ֙ם֙ בִּצְבָא֔וֹת א֖וֹ בְּאַיְל֣וֹת הַשָּׂדֶ֑ה אִם־תָּעִ֧ירוּ ׀ וְֽאִם־תְּעֽוֹרְר֛וּ אֶת־הָאַהֲבָ֖ה עַ֥ד שֶׁתֶּחְפָּֽץ׃ (ס)
Upon my couch at night I sought the one I love— I sought, but found him not. “I must rise and roam the town, Through the streets and through the squares; I must seek the one I love.” I sought but found him not. I met the watchmen Who patrol the town. “Have you seen the one I love?” Scarcely had I passed them When I found the one I love. I held him fast, I would not let him go Till I brought him to my mother’s house, To the chamber of her who conceived me I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem, By gazelles or by hinds of the field: Do not wake or rouse Love until it please!
הִנָּ֨ךְ יָפָ֤ה רַעְיָתִי֙ הִנָּ֣ךְ יָפָ֔ה עֵינַ֣יִךְ יוֹנִ֔ים מִבַּ֖עַד לְצַמָּתֵ֑ךְ שַׂעְרֵךְ֙ כְּעֵ֣דֶר הָֽעִזִּ֔ים שֶׁגָּלְשׁ֖וּ מֵהַ֥ר גִּלְעָֽד׃ שִׁנַּ֙יִךְ֙ כְּעֵ֣דֶר הַקְּצוּב֔וֹת שֶׁעָל֖וּ מִן־הָרַחְצָ֑ה שֶׁכֻּלָּם֙ מַתְאִימ֔וֹת וְשַׁכֻּלָ֖ה אֵ֥ין בָּהֶֽם׃ כְּח֤וּט הַשָּׁנִי֙ שִׂפְתֹתַ֔יִךְ וּמִדְבָּרֵ֖יךְ נָאוֶ֑ה כְּפֶ֤לַח הָֽרִמּוֹן֙ רַקָּתֵ֔ךְ מִבַּ֖עַד לְצַמָּתֵֽךְ׃ כְּמִגְדַּ֤ל דָּוִיד֙ צַוָּארֵ֔ךְ בָּנ֖וּי לְתַלְפִּיּ֑וֹת אֶ֤לֶף הַמָּגֵן֙ תָּל֣וּי עָלָ֔יו כֹּ֖ל שִׁלְטֵ֥י הַגִּבּוֹרִֽים׃ שְׁנֵ֥י שָׁדַ֛יִךְ כִּשְׁנֵ֥י עֳפָרִ֖ים תְּאוֹמֵ֣י צְבִיָּ֑ה הָרוֹעִ֖ים בַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּֽים׃ עַ֤ד שֶׁיָּפ֙וּחַ֙ הַיּ֔וֹם וְנָ֖סוּ הַצְּלָלִ֑ים אֵ֤לֶךְ לִי֙ אֶל־הַ֣ר הַמּ֔וֹר וְאֶל־גִּבְעַ֖ת הַלְּבוֹנָֽה׃ כֻּלָּ֤ךְ יָפָה֙ רַעְיָתִ֔י וּמ֖וּם אֵ֥ין בָּֽךְ׃ (ס)
Ah, you are fair, my darling, Ah, you are fair. Your eyes are like doves Behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats Streaming down Mount Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of ewes Climbing up from the washing pool; All of them bear twins, And not one loses her young. Your lips are like a crimson thread, Your mouth is lovely. Your brow behind your veil [Gleams] like a pomegranate split open. Your neck is like the Tower of David, Built to hold weapons, Hung with a thousand shields— All the quivers of warriors. Your breasts are like two fawns, Twins of a gazelle, Browsing among the lilies. When the day blows gently And the shadows flee, I will betake me to the mount of myrrh, To the hill of frankincense. Every part of you is fair, my darling, There is no blemish in you
ע֤וּרִי צָפוֹן֙ וּב֣וֹאִי תֵימָ֔ן הָפִ֥יחִי גַנִּ֖י יִזְּל֣וּ בְשָׂמָ֑יו יָבֹ֤א דוֹדִי֙ לְגַנּ֔וֹ וְיֹאכַ֖ל פְּרִ֥י מְגָדָֽיו׃
Awake, O north wind, Come, O south wind! Blow upon my garden, That its perfume may spread. Let my beloved come to his garden And enjoy its luscious fruits!
אֲנִ֥י יְשֵׁנָ֖ה וְלִבִּ֣י עֵ֑ר ק֣וֹל ׀ דּוֹדִ֣י דוֹפֵ֗ק פִּתְחִי־לִ֞י אֲחֹתִ֤י רַעְיָתִי֙ יוֹנָתִ֣י תַמָּתִ֔י שֶׁרֹּאשִׁי֙ נִמְלָא־טָ֔ל קְוֻּצּוֹתַ֖י רְסִ֥יסֵי לָֽיְלָה׃ פָּשַׁ֙טְתִּי֙ אֶת־כֻּתָּנְתִּ֔י אֵיכָ֖כָה אֶלְבָּשֶׁ֑נָּה רָחַ֥צְתִּי אֶת־רַגְלַ֖י אֵיכָ֥כָה אֲטַנְּפֵֽם׃ דּוֹדִ֗י שָׁלַ֤ח יָדוֹ֙ מִן־הַחֹ֔ר וּמֵעַ֖י הָמ֥וּ עָלָֽיו׃ קַ֥מְתִּֽי אֲנִ֖י לִפְתֹּ֣חַ לְדוֹדִ֑י וְיָדַ֣י נָֽטְפוּ־מ֗וֹר וְאֶצְבְּעֹתַי֙ מ֣וֹר עֹבֵ֔ר עַ֖ל כַּפּ֥וֹת הַמַּנְעֽוּל׃ פָּתַ֤חְתִּֽי אֲנִי֙ לְדוֹדִ֔י וְדוֹדִ֖י חָמַ֣ק עָבָ֑ר נַפְשִׁי֙ יָֽצְאָ֣ה בְדַבְּר֔וֹ בִּקַּשְׁתִּ֙יהוּ֙ וְלֹ֣א מְצָאתִ֔יהוּ קְרָאתִ֖יו וְלֹ֥א עָנָֽנִי׃ מְצָאֻ֧נִי הַשֹּׁמְרִ֛ים הַסֹּבְבִ֥ים בָּעִ֖יר הִכּ֣וּנִי פְצָע֑וּנִי נָשְׂא֤וּ אֶת־רְדִידִי֙ מֵֽעָלַ֔י שֹׁמְרֵ֖י הַחֹמֽוֹת׃ הִשְׁבַּ֥עְתִּי אֶתְכֶ֖ם בְּנ֣וֹת יְרוּשָׁלִָ֑ם אִֽם־תִּמְצְאוּ֙ אֶת־דּוֹדִ֔י מַה־תַּגִּ֣ידוּ ל֔וֹ שֶׁחוֹלַ֥ת אַהֲבָ֖ה אָֽנִי׃ מַה־דּוֹדֵ֣ךְ מִדּ֔וֹד הַיָּפָ֖ה בַּנָּשִׁ֑ים מַה־דּוֹדֵ֣ךְ מִדּ֔וֹד שֶׁכָּ֖כָה הִשְׁבַּעְתָּֽנוּ׃ דּוֹדִ֥י צַח֙ וְאָד֔וֹם דָּג֖וּל מֵרְבָבָֽה׃
I was asleep, But my heart was wakeful. Hark, my beloved knocks! “Let me in, my own, My darling, my faultless dove! For my head is drenched with dew, My locks with the damp of night.” I had taken off my robe— Was I to don it again? I had bathed my feet— Was I to soil them again? My beloved took his hand off the latch, And my heart was stirred for him. I rose to let in my beloved; My hands dripped myrrh— My fingers, flowing myrrh— Upon the handles of the bolt. I opened the door for my beloved, But my beloved had turned and gone. I was faint because of what he said. I sought, but found him not; I called, but he did not answer. I met the watchmen Who patrol the town; They struck me, they bruised me. The guards of the walls Stripped me of my mantle. I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem! If you meet my beloved, tell him this: That I am faint with love. How is your beloved better than another, O fairest of women? How is your beloved better than another That you adjure us so? My beloved is clear-skinned and ruddy, Preeminent among ten thousand.
מִ֤י יִתֶּנְךָ֙ כְּאָ֣ח לִ֔י יוֹנֵ֖ק שְׁדֵ֣י אִמִּ֑י אֶֽמְצָאֲךָ֤ בַחוּץ֙ אֶשָׁ֣קְךָ֔ גַּ֖ם לֹא־יָב֥וּזוּ לִֽי׃ אֶנְהָֽגֲךָ֗ אֲבִֽיאֲךָ֛ אֶל־בֵּ֥ית אִמִּ֖י תְּלַמְּדֵ֑נִי אַשְׁקְךָ֙ מִיַּ֣יִן הָרֶ֔קַח מֵעֲסִ֖יס רִמֹּנִֽי׃ שְׂמֹאלוֹ֙ תַּ֣חַת רֹאשִׁ֔י וִֽימִינ֖וֹ תְּחַבְּקֵֽנִי׃ הִשְׁבַּ֥עְתִּי אֶתְכֶ֖ם בְּנ֣וֹת יְרוּשָׁלִָ֑ם מַה־תָּעִ֧ירוּ ׀ וּֽמַה־תְּעֹֽרְר֛וּ אֶת־הָאַהֲבָ֖ה עַ֥ד שֶׁתֶּחְפָּֽץ׃ (ס)
If only it could be as with a brother, As if you had nursed at my mother’s breast: Then I could kiss you When I met you in the street, And no one would despise me. I would lead you, I would bring you To the house of my mother, Of her who taught me— I would let you drink of the spiced wine, Of my pomegranate juice. His left hand was under my head, His right hand caressed me. I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem: Do not wake or rouse Love until it please!
מִ֣י זֹ֗את עֹלָה֙ מִן־הַמִּדְבָּ֔ר מִתְרַפֶּ֖קֶת עַל־דּוֹדָ֑הּ תַּ֤חַת הַתַּפּ֙וּחַ֙ עֽוֹרַרְתִּ֔יךָ שָׁ֚מָּה חִבְּלַ֣תְךָ אִמֶּ֔ךָ שָׁ֖מָּה חִבְּלָ֥ה יְלָדַֽתְךָ׃ שִׂימֵ֨נִי כַֽחוֹתָ֜ם עַל־לִבֶּ֗ךָ כַּֽחוֹתָם֙ עַל־זְרוֹעֶ֔ךָ כִּֽי־עַזָּ֤ה כַמָּ֙וֶת֙ אַהֲבָ֔ה קָשָׁ֥ה כִשְׁא֖וֹל קִנְאָ֑ה רְשָׁפֶ֕יהָ רִשְׁפֵּ֕י אֵ֖שׁ שַׁלְהֶ֥בֶתְיָֽה׃ מַ֣יִם רַבִּ֗ים לֹ֤א יֽוּכְלוּ֙ לְכַבּ֣וֹת אֶת־הָֽאַהֲבָ֔ה וּנְהָר֖וֹת לֹ֣א יִשְׁטְפ֑וּהָ אִם־יִתֵּ֨ן אִ֜ישׁ אֶת־כָּל־ה֤וֹן בֵּיתוֹ֙ בָּאַהֲבָ֔ה בּ֖וֹז יָב֥וּזוּ לֽוֹ׃ (ס)
Who is she that comes up from the desert, Leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple tree I roused you; It was there your mother conceived you, There she who bore you conceived you. Let me be a seal upon your heart, Like the seal upon your hand. For love is fierce as death, Passion is mighty as Sheol; Its darts are darts of fire, A blazing flame. Vast floods cannot quench love, Nor rivers drown it. If a man offered all his wealth for love, He would be laughed to scorn.

(יד) כד רדף פרעה רשיעא בתר עמא בית ישראל הות מתילא כענשתא דישר ליונתא דסגירא בחגוי טינרא וחויא מעיק לה מיגיו ונצא מעיק לה מברא כדין הות כנשתא דישר סגירתא מארבע סטרי עלמא דמן קדמיהון ימא ומבתריהון סנאה ומסטריהון מדברא [מליא] חיויין קלן דנכתין וקטלין בארסיהון ית בני אנשא מן יד פתחת פומה בצלו קייי ונפקת ברת קלא מן שמי מרומא ואמרת אנא כנשתא דישראל די מתילא ליונתא דכיא ומטמרא בסגירת גוי ובחביוני דריגתא אחזיני ית חזיוניך וית עבדיך תקנין אשמעינני ית קליך ארום קליך מערב בצלותא בבית מקדשא ומחזייך שפיר בעובדין טבין:

(14) And when wicked Pharaoh pursued the people of Israel, the Assembly of Israel was compared to a dove trapped in the clefts of a rock–a snake threatening it from within and a hawk threatening it from without. In the same way, the Assembly of Israel was trapped in all four directions: in front of them was the sea, behind them the enemy pursued, and on either side were wildernesses full of fiery serpents which wound and kill people with their sting. Then immediately the Assembly opened her mouth in prayer before God and an echo came from the heaven above and this is what it said, “You, O Assembly of Israel, who resemble a dove, pure and hiding in the hiding-place of the clefts of the rocks or in the hidden places of the stairs: show me your face and your worthy deeds and let me hear your voice. For your voice is sweet when it prays in the small Temple and your face is beautiful when you perform good deeds.”

פָּתַח רַבִּי יוֹסִי וְאָמַר, שִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים אֲשֶׁר לִשְׁלֹמֹה. שִׁירָתָא דָּא אִתְּעַר לָהּ שְׁלֹמֹה מַלְכָּא, כַּד אִתְבְּנִי בֵּי מַקְדְּשָׁא, וְעָלְמִין כֻּלְּהוּ אִשְׁתְּלִימוּ, עֵילָּא וְתַתָּא בִּשְׁלְמוּתָא חֲדָא. וְאַף עַל גַּב דְּחַבְרַיָּיא פְּלִיגָּן בְּהַאי, (נ''א מתי אתמר) אֲבָל שִׁירָתָא דָּא לָא אִתְּמַר, אֶלָּא בִּשְׁלִימוּ, כַּד סִיהֲרָא אִתְמַלְיָא בִּשְׁלִימוּ, וּבֵי מַקְדְּשָׁא אִתְבְּנִי כְּגַוְונָא דִּלְעֵילָּא בְּשַׁעֲתָא דְּאִתְבְּנֵי בֵּי מַקְדְּשָׁא לְתַתָּא, לָא הֲוָה חֶדְוָה קָמֵיהּ קוּדְשָׁא בְּרִיךְ הוּא, מִיּוֹמָא דְּאִתְבְּרֵי עָלְמָא, כְּהַהוּא יוֹמָא.

Rabbi Yosi opened saying, "The song of songs, which is Solomon's" (Shir Hashirim 1:1). King Solomon was inspired to this song when the Temple was built, and all the worlds above and below were completed in one completion. Even though the friends disagree, but this song was recited whole only when the moon was fully completed, and the Temple was built in the likeness of above. When the Temple was built below, there was no joy before the Holy Blessed One from the day that the world was created, like that day.

שִׁירָתָא דָּא שִׁירָתָא, דְּאִיהִי כְּלָלָא דְּכָל אוֹרַיְיתָא. שִׁירָתָא דְּעִלָאֵי וְתַתָּאֵי מִתְעָרֵי לְגַבָּהּ. שִׁירָתָא דְּאִיהִי כְּגַוְונָא דְּעָלְמָא דִּלְעֵילָּא, דְּאִיהוּ שַׁבָּת עִלָּאָה. שִׁירָתָא דִּשְׁמָא קַדִּישָׁא עִלָּאָה, אִתְעַטַּר בְּגִינֵיהּ. וְעַל דָּא אִיהוּ קֹדֶשׁ קֳדָשִׁים. מַאי טַעְמָא. בְּגִין דְּכָל מִלּוֹי בִּרְחִימוּ וּבְחֶדְוָה כֹּלָּא. (ודא) בְּגִין דְּכוֹס שֶׁל בְּרָכָה אִתְיְהִיב בִּימִינָא, כֵּיוָן דְּאִתְיְהִיב בִּימִינָא, כְּדֵין כָּל חֵידוּ וְכָל רְחִימוּ אִשְׁתְּכַח. וּבְגִין כַּךְ בִּרְחִימוּ וּבְחֶדְוָה כָּל מִלּוֹי.

This song is a song that includes the whole Torah, a song with which those above and those below became inspired. It is a song which is similar to above, which is the supernal Shabbat, a song that the Supernal Holy Name, becomes crowned by. Therefore, it is the Holy of Holies. What is the reason? Because all its words are in the love and the joy of all, and the Cup of Blessing is given with the right hand. Since it is given with the right hand, then all joy and love are present. Therefore, all its words are with love and with joy.


The Song of Songs is lyric poetry; its progression, as noted above, is not linear but rather meandering. It surges forward and circles back upon itself, continuously and effortlessly repeating its acts of conjuring and reissuing its invitation to the reader. Just as the harmony of the male and female voices represents, on the poetic plane, their sexual union, so the poetic rhythm of the Song, ever forward and then returning, reflects the repetitive pattern of seeking and finding in which the lovers engage, which is the basic pattern of sexual love: longing - satisfaction - renewed longing - and so on. The prolonging of desire and of fulfilment stretching across the span of the poem plays an essential part in the Song’s effectiveness - its power - as a love poem.
- J. Cheryl Exum, “Gendered Love-Talk and the Relation of the Sexes” in The Old Testament Library: Song of Songs
The inclusion of the Song of Songs within the Holy Scriptures never ceases to perplex modern readers. The features most often presented as incompatible with the biblical world view are: the conspicuous absence of God; the lack of national themes; and the daring erotic character of the dialogue between the lovers. Following Phyllis Trible, I would like to add another deviant feature which complicates the matter even further: the Song’s anti-patriarchal bent. Trible defines the relationship between the lovers as an egalitarian one: “There is no male dominance, no female subordination, and no stereotyping of either sex”. She goes on to suggest that the Song sets out to correct the patriarchal model which was established in another garden, the Garden of Eden. “They desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee” is the divine judgement upon the woman in Genesis 3:16. Conversely, in the Song, desire relies on mutuality. Time and again the Shulamite claims “My beloved is mine and I am his.”
- Ilana Pardes “’I am a Wall, and My Breasts like Towers’: The Song of Songs and the Question of Canonization”, Countertraditions in the Bible: A Feminist Approach, pp. 118-143.