[SQUAW]

Chapter 8

O that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the breasts of my mother! when I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; yea, I should not be despised.
I would lead thee, and bring thee into my mother's house, who would instruct me: I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine of the juice of my pomegranate.
His left hand should be under my head, and his right hand should embrace me.
I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, until he please.
Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? I raised thee up under the apple tree: there thy mother brought thee forth: there she brought thee forth that bare thee.
Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.
Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.
We have a little sister, and she hath no breasts: what shall we do for our sister in the day when she shall be spoken for?
If she be a wall, we will build upon her a palace of silver: and if she be a door, we will inclose her with boards of cedar.
I am a wall, and my breasts like towers: then was I in his eyes as one that found favour.
Solomon had a vineyard at Baalhamon; he let out the vineyard unto keepers; every one for the fruit thereof was to bring a thousand pieces of silver.
My vineyard, which is mine, is before me: thou, O Solomon, must have a thousand, and those that keep the fruit thereof two hundred.
Thou that dwellest in the gardens, the companions hearken to thy voice: cause me to hear it.
Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.

GLAVA 8

O da bi mi brat bio, da bi sao sise matere moje! Našavši te na polju poljubila bih te, i ne bih bila prekorna.
Povela bih te i dovela bih te u kuću matere svoje; ti bi me učio, a ja bih te pojila vinom mirisavim, sokom od šipaka.
Leva je ruka njegova meni pod glavom, a desnom me grli.
Zaklinjem vas, kćeri jerusalimske, ne budite ljubavi moje, ne budite je, dokle joj ne bude volja.
Ko je ona što ide gore od pustinje naslanjajući se na dragog svog. Pod jabukom probudih te, gde te rodi mati tvoja, gde te rodi roditeljka tvoja.
Metni me kao pečat na srce svoje, kao pečat na mišicu svoju. Jer je ljubav jaka kao smrt, i ljubavna sumnja tvrda kao grob; žar je njen kao žar ognjen, plamen Božji.
Mnoga voda ne može ugasiti ljubavi, niti je reke potopiti. Da ko daje sve imanje doma svog za tu ljubav, osramotio bi se.
Imamo sestru malenu, koja još nema dojaka. Šta ćemo činiti sa sestrom svojom kad bude reč o njoj.
Ako je zid, zagradićemo na njemu dvor od srebra; ako li vrata, utvrdićemo ih daskama kedrovim.
Ja sam zid i dojke su moje kao kule. Tada postah u očima njegovim kao ona koja nađe mir.
Vinograd imaše Solomun u Valamonu; dade vinograd čuvarima da svaki donosi za rod njegov po hiljadu srebrnika.
Moj vinograd koji ja imam, preda mnom je. Neka tebi, Solomune, hiljada, i dve stotine onima koji čuvaju rod njegov.
Koja nastavaš u vrtovima! Drugovi slušaju glas tvoj, daj mi da ga čujem.
Brže, dragi moj! I budi kao srna ili kao jelenče na gorama mirisnim.