Quotes About Desire

The fragrance of your perfume is pleasing; your name is like perfume poured out. No wonder the maidens adore you.

Take me away with you—let us hurry! May the king bring me to his chambers. We will rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine. It is only right that they adore you.

I compare you, my darling, to a mare among Pharaohís chariots.

My beloved is to me a sachet of myrrh resting between my breasts.

Sustain me with raisins; refresh me with apples, for I am faint with love.

O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you by the gazelles and does of the field: Do not arouse or awaken love until the time is right.

My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look, he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice.

My beloved calls to me, “Arise, my darling. Come away with me, my beautiful one.

The fig tree ripens its figs; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come away, my darling; come away with me, my beautiful one.”

Before the day breaks and shadows flee, turn, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of Bether.

On my bed at night I sought the one I love; I sought him, but did not find him.

I encountered the watchmen on their rounds of the city: “Have you seen the one I love?”

O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you by the gazelles and does of the field: Do not arouse or awaken love until the time is right.

Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon, and your mouth is lovely. Your brow behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.

Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle grazing among the lilies.

Before the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will make my way to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.

You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your neck.

Your lips, my bride, drip sweetness like the honeycomb; honey and milk are under your tongue, and the fragrance of your garments is like the aroma of Lebanon.

Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind. Breathe on my garden and spread the fragrance of its spices. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choicest fruits.

I sleep, but my heart is awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”

My beloved put his hand to the latch; my heart pounded for him.

I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh on the handles of the bolt.

O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you, if you find my beloved, tell him I am sick with love.

How is your beloved better than others, O most beautiful among women? How is your beloved better than another, that you charge us so?