1 I wish that you were my brother,that my mother had nursed you at her breast.Then, if I met you in the street,I could kiss you and no one would mind.
2 I would take you to my mother's house,where you could teach me love.I would give you spiced wine,my pomegranate wine to drink.
3 Your left hand is under my head,and your right hand caresses me.
4 Promise me, women of Jerusalem,that you will not interrupt our love.
5 Who is this coming from the desert,arm in arm with her lover?Under the apple tree I woke you,in the place where you were born.