Yes, I am black! and radiant—

O city women watching me—

Brightest flower--

I choose you from all others

For my love.

When they have gone, I find him

And I won’t let him go.

Come, north winds and south winds!

Breathe upon my garden.

Bear its fragrance to my lover,

Let him come and share its treasures.

The men who roam the streets,

guarding the walls,

beat me and tear away my robe.

Striking as Tirza

you are, my love,

bright as Jerusalem,

frightening as visions!

And the pomegranate boughs unfold their blossoms.

The king has a vineyard

Whose fruit is worth silver.

I have a vineyard—