Song of Solomon 5
About Song of SolomonWritten by AI
The Song of Solomon, also called the Song of Songs, is a collection of love poetry. A woman and a man, often called the bride and the bridegroom, delight in each other, long for each other, and speak their love openly, with friends and the daughters of Jerusalem joining in. Its title links it to Solomon, around 950 BC. Whether he wrote it, or it was written about him or dedicated to him, is debated.
There is no clear plot. The poems move between longing and finding, separation and reunion, in rich images of gardens, vineyards, spices and springtime. Speakers change without warning, so it helps to watch who is talking.
Christians have read the Song in two main ways: as a celebration of love and desire within marriage, a good gift from God, and as a picture of God's love for His people, or Christ's love for the church. Many hold both together. Watch for the repeated refrain urging patience, and for the climax: “love is as strong as death.”
Before you read Song of Solomon 5Written by AI
The chapter opens as he comes into his garden and the friends bless the couple's joy. Then the mood changes: she hesitates to open the door when he knocks, and when she does, he is gone. She searches, is mistreated by the watchmen, and when the daughters of Jerusalem ask what makes him special, she describes him with love and calls him her friend.
The Bride and Her BelovedThe Bridegroom
The Friends
I have come to my garden, my sister, my bride;
I have gathered my myrrh with my spice.
I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey;
I have drunk my wine with my milk.
Eat, O friends, and drink;
drink freely, O beloved.
The Bride
I sleep, but my heart is awake.
A sound! My beloved is knocking:
“Open to me, my sister, my darling,
my dove, my flawless one.
My head is drenched with dew,
my hair with the dampness of the night.”
I have taken off my robe—
must I put it back on?
I have washed my feet—
must I soil them again?
My beloved put his hand to the latch;
my heart pounded for him.
I rose up to open for my beloved.
My hands dripped with myrrh,
my fingers with flowing myrrh
on the handles of the bolt.
I opened for my beloved,
but he had turned and gone.
My heart sank at his departure.
I sought him but did not find him.
I called, but he did not answer.
I encountered the watchmen on their rounds of the city.
They beat me and bruised me;
they took away my cloak,
those guardians of the walls.
O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you,
if you find my beloved,
tell him I am sick with love.
The Friends
How is your beloved better than others,
O most beautiful among women?
How is your beloved better than another,
that you charge us so?
The Bride
My beloved is dazzling and ruddy,
outstanding among ten thousand.
His head is purest gold;
his hair is wavy and black as a raven.
His eyes are like doves
beside the streams of water,
bathed in milk
and mounted like jewels.
His cheeks are like beds of spice,
towers of perfume.
His lips are like lilies,
dripping with flowing myrrh.
His arms are rods of gold
set with beryl.
His body is polished ivory
bedecked with sapphires.
His legs are pillars of marble
set on bases of pure gold.
His appearance is like Lebanon,
as majestic as the cedars.
His mouth is most sweet;
he is altogether lovely.
This is my beloved, and this is my friend,
O daughters of Jerusalem.