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SONG OF SOLOMON AND SHEBA

She was black, but comely,
The fairest to behold,
Her cheeks adorned with rows of jewels,
Her neck with chains of gold,
Her lips like milk and honey,
Her eyes like pools of water.
She was Queen of Sheba,
A prince’s beautiful daughter.

He was white and ruddy,
With breath as sweet as myrrh,
His kisses better than wine,
Or so they seemed to her,
His hair as black as a raven,
His eyes like turtle doves.
Like a roebuck on the mountain
He took her for his love.

Rise up, my love, my fair one,
Rise up and come away,
High upon the mountaintop
Until the break of day,
Beyond the footsteps of the flocks,
Beyond the tents of shepherds,
To secret clefts within the rocks
Among the lions and the leopards.

And let us get up early,
Go forth into the field
Like foxes in the vineyards
And taste the fruits they yield,
See the flowers on the earth,
Hear the turtle dove,
Then lodge within the villages.
There I will give to thee my love.

He brought her to his chamber
And took his love to bed,
His right hand in a sweet embrace,
His left beneath her head,
And there she opened up to him,
And when he had withdrawn,
He lay all night between her breasts
And slept until the dawn.

She was the rose of Sharon,
The lily of the valleys.
He was King of Israel,
Solomon by name.
Many waters could not quench their love
Nor could they drown its flame.
It lives on through the ages
And bears a wondrous fame.

Canton, New York, 2000