Song of Songs might be one of the oldest surviving Jewish sacred texts---probably at least 2,500 years old in its written form and far older as an oral transmission. It may have been sung in ancient erotic ritual. There's a good chance it was composed by women.
How did the ancient rabbis feel about this erotic song that centers and celebrates lust, female desire, and strength?
אָמַר רַבִּי עֲקִיבָא...שֶׁאֵין כָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ כְדַאי כַּיּוֹם שֶׁנִּתַּן בּוֹ שִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים לְיִשְׂרָאֵל, שֶׁכָּל הַכְּתוּבִים קֹדֶשׁ, וְשִׁיר הַשִּׁירִים קֹדֶשׁ קָדָשִׁים.
Rabbi Akiva said...The entirety of the world world is not as worthy as the day on which the Song of Songs was given to God-wrestlers; for all the writings are holy but the Song of Songs is the Holy of Holies.
These translations are a mix of my own, JPS 1985, and Chana and Ariel Bloch's translations. I began this project planning to curate the most erotic snippets, but as I communed with the ancestors through these ancient words something else began to emerge: a startling sense of this song as a political chant of male and female defiance against a background of intensifying misogyny. What could be sexier than that?
With a little more digging, it was thrilling to discover other scholars had come to similar conclusions about the politics of this song. I've referenced a few of them in this source sheet.
The words of the male lover are in blue, the words of the female lover in red.
In addition to a song about human experience, the Song of Songs has also often been read as a metaphor for love between humans and the Divine. In a patriarchal context, the male lover is understood as a symbol of God. I find it much more interesting to follow the suggestion of Rabbi Julia Watts-Belser and understand the female lover as a Divine stand-in, a "God in search of wo/man/enby."
The text opens with a woman's demand:
(א) שִׁ֥יר הַשִּׁירִ֖ים אֲשֶׁ֥ר לִשְׁלֹמֹֽה׃ (ב) יִשָּׁקֵ֙נִי֙ מִנְּשִׁיק֣וֹת פִּ֔יהוּ כִּֽי־טוֹבִ֥ים דֹּדֶ֖יךָ מִיָּֽיִן׃
(1) The Song of Songs, by Solomon. (2) Kiss Me, make Me drunk with your kisses! Your sweet loving is better than wine.
The lover isn't a male fantasy, she's reflective of real women and she begins by contextualizing her sexual self in a problematic culture that's all too familiar: she'd been forced to tend to her brothers, prioritizing men's needs over her own.
(ו) אַל־תִּרְא֙וּנִי֙ שֶׁאֲנִ֣י שְׁחַרְחֹ֔רֶת שֶׁשְּׁזָפַ֖תְנִי הַשָּׁ֑מֶשׁ בְּנֵ֧י אִמִּ֣י נִֽחֲרוּ־בִ֗י שָׂמֻ֙נִי֙ נֹטֵרָ֣ה אֶת־הַכְּרָמִ֔ים כַּרְמִ֥י שֶׁלִּ֖י לֹ֥א נָטָֽרְתִּי׃
(6) Don’t stare at Me because I am sunburnt, because the sun has stared at Me. My mother’s sons quarreled with Me, they made Me guard the vineyards; so My own vineyard I could not guard.
Through metaphors of royalty, nature, spices, and oils, the lover evokes a visual, tactile, and aromatic sex scene:
(יב) עַד־שֶׁ֤הַמֶּ֙לֶךְ֙ בִּמְסִבּ֔וֹ נִרְדִּ֖י נָתַ֥ן רֵיחֽוֹ׃ (יג) צְר֨וֹר הַמֹּ֤ר ׀ דּוֹדִי֙ לִ֔י בֵּ֥ין שָׁדַ֖י יָלִֽין׃
(12) While the king was on his sofa, My nard (strong, sweet-woody, spicy-animal odored oil) gave forth its scent. (13) To Me, My beloved is a fat bundle of perfume lodged between My breasts.
In this poem there are numerous scenes referencing oral pleasure. There are also a number of words associated with Asherah/Goddess worship seamlessly woven into the text. Note the instruction in verse seven: this is repeated three times over the course of the song.
(ג) כְּתַפּ֙וּחַ֙ בַּעֲצֵ֣י הַיַּ֔עַר כֵּ֥ן דּוֹדִ֖י בֵּ֣ין הַבָּנִ֑ים בְּצִלּוֹ֙ חִמַּ֣דְתִּי וְיָשַׁ֔בְתִּי וּפִרְי֖וֹ מָת֥וֹק לְחִכִּֽי׃ (ד) הֱבִיאַ֙נִי֙ אֶל־בֵּ֣ית הַיָּ֔יִן וְדִגְל֥וֹ עָלַ֖י אַהֲבָֽה׃ (ה) סַמְּכ֙וּנִי֙ בָּֽאֲשִׁישׁ֔וֹת רַפְּד֖וּנִי בַּתַּפּוּחִ֑ים כִּי־חוֹלַ֥ת אַהֲבָ֖ה אָֽנִי׃ (ו) שְׂמֹאלוֹ֙ תַּ֣חַת לְרֹאשִׁ֔י וִימִינ֖וֹ תְּחַבְּקֵֽנִי׃ (ז) הִשְׁבַּ֨עְתִּי אֶתְכֶ֜ם בְּנ֤וֹת יְרוּשָׁלַ֙͏ִם֙ בִּצְבָא֔וֹת א֖וֹ בְּאַיְל֣וֹת הַשָּׂדֶ֑ה אִם־תָּעִ֧ירוּ ׀ וְֽאִם־תְּע֥וֹרְר֛וּ אֶת־הָאַהֲבָ֖ה עַ֥ד שֶׁתֶּחְפָּֽץ׃ {ס}
(3) Like an apple tree among trees of the forest, so is My beloved among the guys. I linger in his shade, his fruit sweet to My mouth. (4) He brought Me to the tavern, and his banner of love was over Me.(5) “Revive Me with raisin cakes (possibly: Goddess fertility cakes), refresh Me with apples, for I am faint with love.” (6) His left hand was under My head, his right arm embraced Me. (7) Swear to Me, O maidens of Jerusalem, by gazelles, by the deer of the field: do not wake or rouse love until it please!
America may have discovered the particularities of female anatomy in the seventies, but thousands of years earlier, this male lover is trying to arouse that "dove in the cleft of the rocks"....
(יד) יוֹנָתִ֞י בְּחַגְוֵ֣י הַסֶּ֗לַע בְּסֵ֙תֶר֙ הַמַּדְרֵגָ֔ה הַרְאִ֙ינִי֙ אֶת־מַרְאַ֔יִךְ הַשְׁמִיעִ֖נִי אֶת־קוֹלֵ֑ךְ כִּי־קוֹלֵ֥ךְ עָרֵ֖ב וּמַרְאֵ֥יךְ נָאוֶֽה׃ {ס}
(14) “My dove, in the cleft of the rocks, sheltered by the cliff, let me see Your face, let me hear Your voice; for Your voice is sweet and You look beautiful.”
The second of three repetitions:
(ה) הִשְׁבַּ֨עְתִּי אֶתְכֶ֜ם בְּנ֤וֹת יְרוּשָׁלַ֙͏ִם֙ בִּצְבָא֔וֹת א֖וֹ בְּאַיְל֣וֹת הַשָּׂדֶ֑ה אִם־תָּעִ֧ירוּ ׀ וְֽאִם־תְּע֥וֹרְר֛וּ אֶת־הָאַהֲבָ֖ה עַ֥ד שֶׁתֶּחְפָּֽץ׃ {ס}
(5) Swear to Me, O maidens of Jerusalem, by gazelles, by the deer of the field: do not wake or rouse love until it please!
This male lover honors his lover's neck that holds the "weapons" and "shields" of the powerful female voice. And he understands how active female sexuality is: to him, breasts are not passive objects but organs alive with sensations--- fawns grazing for pleasure.
(ג) כְּח֤וּט הַשָּׁנִי֙ שִׂפְתוֹתַ֔יִךְ וּמִדְבָּרֵ֖ךְ נָאוֶ֑ה כְּפֶ֤לַח הָֽרִמּוֹן֙ רַקָּתֵ֔ךְ מִבַּ֖עַד לְצַמָּתֵֽךְ׃ (ד) כְּמִגְדַּ֤ל דָּוִיד֙ צַוָּארֵ֔ךְ בָּנ֖וּי לְתַלְפִּיּ֑וֹת אֶ֤לֶף הַמָּגֵן֙ תָּל֣וּי עָלָ֔יו כֹּ֖ל שִׁלְטֵ֥י הַגִּבֹּרִֽים׃ (ה) שְׁנֵ֥י שָׁדַ֛יִךְ כִּשְׁנֵ֥י עֳפָרִ֖ים תְּאוֹמֵ֣י צְבִיָּ֑ה הָרוֹעִ֖ים בַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּֽים׃ (ו) עַ֤ד שֶׁיָּפ֙וּחַ֙ הַיּ֔וֹם וְנָ֖סוּ הַצְּלָלִ֑ים אֵ֤לֶךְ לִי֙ אֶל־הַ֣ר הַמּ֔וֹר וְאֶל־גִּבְעַ֖ת הַלְּבוֹנָֽה׃
(3) Your lips are like a crimson thread, Your words are beautiful. Behind Your veil, Your cheek glows like a slice of pomegranate. (4) Your neck is like the Tower of David, built to hold weapons, hung with a thousand shields—all the quivers of warriors. (5) Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, grazing among the lilies. (6) When the day gently exhales, and the shadows flee, I will go to the hill of myrrh, to the sacred-Goddess-hill of frankincense.
(יב) גַּ֥ן ׀ נָע֖וּל אֲחֹתִ֣י כַלָּ֑ה גַּ֥ל נָע֖וּל מַעְיָ֥ן חָתֽוּם׃
(12) A Garden locked is my own, my Bride, a Fountain locked, a sealed-up Spring.
(טז) ע֤וּרִי צָפוֹן֙ וּב֣וֹאִי תֵימָ֔ן הָפִ֥יחִי גַנִּ֖י יִזְּל֣וּ בְשָׂמָ֑יו יָבֹ֤א דוֹדִי֙ לְגַנּ֔וֹ וְיֹאכַ֖ל פְּרִ֥י מְגָדָֽיו׃
(16) Awake, O north wind, come, O south wind! Breathe upon My garden, that its perfume may spread. Let My beloved come to his garden and enjoy its luscious fruits!
(א) בָּ֣אתִי לְגַנִּי֮ אֲחֹתִ֣י כַלָּה֒ אָרִ֤יתִי מוֹרִי֙ עִם־בְּשָׂמִ֔י אָכַ֤לְתִּי יַעְרִי֙ עִם־דִּבְשִׁ֔י שָׁתִ֥יתִי יֵינִ֖י עִם־חֲלָבִ֑י אִכְל֣וּ רֵעִ֔ים שְׁת֥וּ וְשִׁכְר֖וּ דּוֹדִֽים׃ {ס} (ב) אֲנִ֥י יְשֵׁנָ֖ה וְלִבִּ֣י עֵ֑ר ק֣וֹל ׀ דּוֹדִ֣י דוֹפֵ֗ק פִּתְחִי־לִ֞י אֲחֹתִ֤י רַעְיָתִי֙ יוֹנָתִ֣י תַמָּתִ֔י שֶׁרֹּאשִׁי֙ נִמְלָא־טָ֔ל קְוֻצּוֹתַ֖י רְסִ֥יסֵי לָֽיְלָה׃ (ג) פָּשַׁ֙טְתִּי֙ אֶת־כֻּתׇּנְתִּ֔י אֵיכָ֖כָה אֶלְבָּשֶׁ֑נָּה רָחַ֥צְתִּי אֶת־רַגְלַ֖י אֵיכָ֥כָה אֲטַנְּפֵֽם׃ (ד) דּוֹדִ֗י שָׁלַ֤ח יָדוֹ֙ מִן־הַחֹ֔ר וּמֵעַ֖י הָמ֥וּ עָלָֽיו׃ (ה) קַ֥מְתִּֽי אֲנִ֖י לִפְתֹּ֣חַ לְדוֹדִ֑י וְיָדַ֣י נָֽטְפוּ־מ֗וֹר וְאֶצְבְּעֹתַי֙ מ֣וֹר עֹבֵ֔ר עַ֖ל כַּפּ֥וֹת הַמַּנְעֽוּל׃ (ו) פָּתַ֤חְתִּֽי אֲנִי֙ לְדוֹדִ֔י וְדוֹדִ֖י חָמַ֣ק עָבָ֑ר נַפְשִׁי֙ יָֽצְאָ֣ה בְדַבְּר֔וֹ בִּקַּשְׁתִּ֙יהוּ֙ וְלֹ֣א מְצָאתִ֔יהוּ קְרָאתִ֖יו וְלֹ֥א עָנָֽנִי׃
(1) I have come to my garden, my Own, my
Bride; I have plucked my myrrh and spice,
eaten my honey and honeycomb, drunk my
wine and my milk. Eat, lovers, and drink:
Drink deep of love!
(2) I was asleep, but My heart was awake. Listen, my beloved knocks! "Let me in, my Own, my Darling, my perfect Dove! My head is drenched with dew, my locks with the damp of night."
(3) I had taken off My robe--was I to put it on again? I had bathed My feet— was I to
soil them again?
(4) My beloved reached his hand through
the latch, and My womb growled
for him. (5) I rose to open for My beloved;
My hands dripping with myrrh—My fingers
dripping with myrrh—upon the handles of
the bolt. (6) I opened the door for My
beloved, but My beloved had turned and
gone. His words had made Me faint. I
looked, but did not find him; I called, but
he did not answer.
In the next sentence, as the female lover searches for her love in the public square she is violently attacked. We can understand this literally or psycho-spiritually.
(ז) מְצָאֻ֧נִי הַשֹּׁמְרִ֛ים הַסֹּבְבִ֥ים בָּעִ֖יר הִכּ֣וּנִי פְצָע֑וּנִי נָשְׂא֤וּ אֶת־רְדִידִי֙ מֵֽעָלַ֔י שֹׁמְרֵ֖י הַחֹמֽוֹת׃
(7) The guards who patrol the town found Me. They beat me, they wounded Me. The guards of the walls stripped Me of My cloak.
The male lover is subject to the scrutinizing and appreciative female gaze:
(יג) לְחָיָו֙ כַּעֲרוּגַ֣ת הַבֹּ֔שֶׂם מִגְדְּל֖וֹת מֶרְקָחִ֑ים שִׂפְתוֹתָיו֙ שֽׁוֹשַׁנִּ֔ים נֹטְפ֖וֹת מ֥וֹר עֹבֵֽר׃ (יד) יָדָיו֙ גְּלִילֵ֣י זָהָ֔ב מְמֻלָּאִ֖ים בַּתַּרְשִׁ֑ישׁ מֵעָיו֙ עֶ֣שֶׁת שֵׁ֔ן מְעֻלֶּ֖פֶת סַפִּירִֽים׃ (טו) שׁוֹקָיו֙ עַמּ֣וּדֵי שֵׁ֔שׁ מְיֻסָּדִ֖ים עַל־אַדְנֵי־פָ֑ז מַרְאֵ֙הוּ֙ כַּלְּבָנ֔וֹן בָּח֖וּר כָּאֲרָזִֽים׃ (טז) חִכּוֹ֙ מַֽמְתַקִּ֔ים וְכֻלּ֖וֹ מַחֲמַדִּ֑ים זֶ֤ה דוֹדִי֙ וְזֶ֣ה רֵעִ֔י בְּנ֖וֹת יְרוּשָׁלָֽ͏ִם׃
(13) His cheeks are like beds of spices, banks of perfume, his lips are like lilies, dripping flowing myrrh. (14) His arms are rods of gold, studded with yellow jasper; his belly (penis?) a tablet of ivory, adorned with sapphires. (15) His legs are like marble pillars set in sockets of fine gold. He is majestic as Lebanon, stately as the cedars. (16) His mouth is delicious, he is all delight. Such is My beloved, such is My darling, O maidens of Jerusalem!
In this passage, the male lover is curious, cautious. The female lover is decisive, all in.
(What do you think of the word merkava/chariot for female genitalia? It gives a whole new spin to what's called "Merkava Mysticism")
(יא) אֶל־גִּנַּ֤ת אֱגוֹז֙ יָרַ֔דְתִּי לִרְא֖וֹת בְּאִבֵּ֣י הַנָּ֑חַל לִרְאוֹת֙ הֲפָֽרְחָ֣ה הַגֶּ֔פֶן הֵנֵ֖צוּ הָרִמֹּנִֽים׃ (יב) לֹ֣א יָדַ֔עְתִּי נַפְשִׁ֣י שָׂמַ֔תְנִי מַרְכְּב֖וֹת עַמִּ֥י נָדִֽיב׃
(11) I went down to the nut grove to see the fresh green of the valley, to see if the vines had blossomed, if the pomegranates were in bloom. (12) Before I knew it, She sat me in the most lavish of chariots.
Breasts like clusters of grapes? Visually, the image is confusing. Sensorially, it makes perfect sense: a constellation of pleasure points.
(ח) זֹ֤את קֽוֹמָתֵךְ֙ דָּֽמְתָ֣ה לְתָמָ֔ר וְשָׁדַ֖יִךְ לְאַשְׁכֹּלֽוֹת׃ (ט) אָמַ֙רְתִּי֙ אֶעֱלֶ֣ה בְתָמָ֔ר אֹֽחֲזָ֖ה בְּסַנְסִנָּ֑יו וְיִֽהְיוּ־נָ֤א שָׁדַ֙יִךְ֙ כְּאֶשְׁכְּל֣וֹת הַגֶּ֔פֶן וְרֵ֥יחַ אַפֵּ֖ךְ כַּתַּפּוּחִֽים׃ (י) וְחִכֵּ֕ךְ כְּיֵ֥ין הַטּ֛וֹב הוֹלֵ֥ךְ לְדוֹדִ֖י לְמֵישָׁרִ֑ים דּוֹבֵ֖ב שִׂפְתֵ֥י יְשֵׁנִֽים׃ (יא) אֲנִ֣י לְדוֹדִ֔י וְעָלַ֖י תְּשׁוּקָתֽוֹ׃ {ס} (יב) לְכָ֤ה דוֹדִי֙ נֵצֵ֣א הַשָּׂדֶ֔ה נָלִ֖ינָה בַּכְּפָרִֽים׃ (יג) נַשְׁכִּ֙ימָה֙ לַכְּרָמִ֔ים נִרְאֶ֞ה אִם־פָּֽרְחָ֤ה הַגֶּ֙פֶן֙ פִּתַּ֣ח הַסְּמָדַ֔ר הֵנֵ֖צוּ הָרִמּוֹנִ֑ים שָׁ֛ם אֶתֵּ֥ן אֶת־דֹּדַ֖י לָֽךְ׃
(8) Your stately form is like the palm, your breasts are like clusters of fruit. (9) I say: Let me climb the palm, let me take hold of its branches; let Your breasts be like clusters of grapes, Your breath like the fragrance of apples, (10) And Your mouth like good wine. I go straight to my Beloved, gliding over Her sleeping lips.
(11) I am My beloved’s, and his desire is for Me.
(12) Come, My beloved, let us go out to the fields; let us spend the night among the henna shrubs. (13) Let us go early to the vineyards to see if the vine has flowered, if its blossoms have opened, if the pomegranates are in bloom.
There I will give you My love.
In "The Song of Songs: A Female Composition," S.D. Goitien points out how radical* verse 7:11 is as a direct reversal of the great patriarchal curse when the first humans are expelled from Eden. Perhaps 7:11 is a kind of undoing spell.
*(Sabbatean?)
(טז) אֶֽל־הָאִשָּׁ֣ה אָמַ֗ר הַרְבָּ֤ה אַרְבֶּה֙ עִצְּבוֹנֵ֣ךְ וְהֵֽרֹנֵ֔ךְ בְּעֶ֖צֶב תֵּֽלְדִ֣י בָנִ֑ים וְאֶל־אִישֵׁךְ֙ תְּשׁ֣וּקָתֵ֔ךְ וְה֖וּא יִמְשׇׁל־בָּֽךְ׃ {ס}
(16) And to the woman [God] said, "I will greatly expand your hard labor—and your pregnancies; In hardship shall you bear children, yet your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you.
The third repetition:
(ד) הִשְׁבַּ֥עְתִּי אֶתְכֶ֖ם בְּנ֣וֹת יְרוּשָׁלָ֑͏ִם מַה־תָּעִ֧ירוּ ׀ וּֽמַה־תְּעֹ֥רְר֛וּ אֶת־הָאַהֲבָ֖ה עַ֥ד שֶׁתֶּחְפָּֽץ׃ {ס}
(4) Swear to Me, O maidens of Jerusalem: do not wake or rouse love until it please!
The following verse echoes lines of the Shema prayer in which we're told to place the words of God on our hearts and bind them as a sign upon our arms, like an amulet. (For the ancestors, amulets were magic practices often maintained by women.) What would it look like to bind love on our arms?
(ו) שִׂימֵ֨נִי כַֽחוֹתָ֜ם עַל־לִבֶּ֗ךָ כַּֽחוֹתָם֙ עַל־זְרוֹעֶ֔ךָ כִּֽי־עַזָּ֤ה כַמָּ֙וֶת֙ אַהֲבָ֔ה קָשָׁ֥ה כִשְׁא֖וֹל קִנְאָ֑ה רְשָׁפֶ֕יהָ רִשְׁפֵּ֕י אֵ֖שׁ שַׁלְהֶ֥בֶתְיָֽה׃
(6) Bind Me as a seal upon your heart, a sign upon your arm, for love is fierce as death, passion is mighty as the grave; its darts are darts of fire, a blazing flame.
As the song comes to a close, we return to the adversaries we started with: the female lover's brothers, who in the past, controlled her life. Now they belittle her as immature, threaten her, and scheme, but the woman has grown over the course of the song, gaining strength in the power of her own desire. Here, she retorts directly to her brothers with full snark, affirming that her virtue comes from her self-ownership.
As Maya Nojechowicz writes, the woman of Song of Songs is "an active combatant to the forces of patriarchy which seek to control her."
Taking her cue, her male lover immediately echoes her defiance, mocking the patriarchal king who, like his lover's brothers, also thinks he can control the bodies of women. The lover flaunts the truth that the freely given sex of one true love is worth vastly more than any number of relationships maintained under duress.
With a backdrop of intensifying patriarchy due to historical trends at large, and, later, Josiah's reforms in particular, the male lover's very last line below is enough to move us to tears. We can imagine that as female power, story, and desire are being criminalized and stamped out, the male lover reminds the woman that despite the misogynists in power, there are many men who stand alongside him, anxious to honor the woman/Goddess energy and to hear Her voice.
(ח) אָח֥וֹת לָ֙נוּ֙ קְטַנָּ֔ה וְשָׁדַ֖יִם אֵ֣ין לָ֑הּ מַֽה־נַּעֲשֶׂה֙ לַאֲחֹתֵ֔נוּ בַּיּ֖וֹם שֶׁיְּדֻבַּר־בָּֽהּ׃ (ט) אִם־חוֹמָ֣ה הִ֔יא נִבְנֶ֥ה עָלֶ֖יהָ טִ֣ירַת כָּ֑סֶף וְאִם־דֶּ֣לֶת הִ֔יא נָצ֥וּר עָלֶ֖יהָ ל֥וּחַ אָֽרֶז׃ (י) אֲנִ֣י חוֹמָ֔ה וְשָׁדַ֖י כַּמִּגְדָּל֑וֹת אָ֛ז הָיִ֥יתִי בְעֵינָ֖יו כְּמוֹצְאֵ֥ת שָׁלֽוֹם׃ {פ} (יא) כֶּ֣רֶם הָיָ֤ה לִשְׁלֹמֹה֙ בְּבַ֣עַל הָמ֔וֹן נָתַ֥ן אֶת־הַכֶּ֖רֶם לַנֹּטְרִ֑ים אִ֛ישׁ יָבִ֥א בְּפִרְי֖וֹ אֶ֥לֶף כָּֽסֶף׃ (יב) כַּרְמִ֥י שֶׁלִּ֖י לְפָנָ֑י הָאֶ֤לֶף לְךָ֙ שְׁלֹמֹ֔ה וּמָאתַ֖יִם לְנֹטְרִ֥ים אֶת־פִּרְיֽוֹ׃ (יג) הַיּוֹשֶׁ֣בֶת בַּגַּנִּ֗ים חֲבֵרִ֛ים מַקְשִׁיבִ֥ים לְקוֹלֵ֖ךְ הַשְׁמִיעִֽנִי׃
(8) “We have a little Sister, whose breasts are not yet formed. What shall we do for our Sister when she is spoken for? (9) If She be a wall, we will build upon it a silver military fortification; if She is a door, we will board Her up with planks of cedar.”
(10) I AM a wall, MY breasts are like towers, and for precisely these reasons, I have been in his eyes a Woman who found peace.
(11) King Solomon had a vineyard on the hill of plenty. He had to post guards in the vineyard: A man would give for its fruit a thousand pieces of silver. (12) I have my very own Vineyard: You may have the thousand, O Solomon, and the guards of the fruit two hundred!
(13) O Woman in the garden, all of our male friends listen for Your voice. Let me hear it now!
The female lover responds with the very last line, an instruction to her lover and his male friends--and perhaps to us:
(יד) בְּרַ֣ח ׀ דּוֹדִ֗י וּֽדְמֵה־לְךָ֤ לִצְבִי֙ א֚וֹ לְעֹ֣פֶר הָֽאַיָּלִ֔ים עַ֖ל הָרֵ֥י בְשָׂמִֽים׃
(14) “Hurry, My beloved, swift as a gazelle or a young stag, to the hills of spices!”