5 Who 'is' this coming from the wilderness, Hasting herself for her beloved? Under the citron-tree I have waked thee, There did thy mother pledge thee, There she gave a pledge 'that' bare thee.
6 Set me as a seal on thy heart, as a seal on thine arm, For strong as death is love, Sharp as Sheol is jealousy, Its burnings 'are' burnings of fire, a flame of Jah!
7 Many waters are not able to quench the love, And floods do not wash it away. If one give all the wealth of his house for love, Treading down -- they tread upon it.
8 We have a little sister, and breasts she hath not, What do we do for our sister, In the day that it is told of her?
9 If she is a wall, we build by her a palace of silver. And if she is a door, We fashion by her board-work of cedar.
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