Oh, that you were my brother, who nursed from the breasts of my mother! I want to have you drink wine and bathe you in my words in my mother’s chamber. Who is this who comes up out of the wilderness, leaning on my beloved? Under the apple tree I aroused you. Set us as a seal on my heart. For love is as strong as death. Love is many things. Our sister is small, she has no breasts. What shall we do on the day she is to be spoken for? If she is a wall, we will build on her a turret of silver; if she is a door, we will enclose her with boards of cedar. I am a wall, and my breasts are like towers. I have found favor in his eyes.