O, let my lover kiss me on the mouth.
Your love is more delightful than sweet wine.
You are the one I’ve only loved since youth.
I am my suitor’s love, and he is mine.
The fragrance of your perfume fills the air.
Your name is like anointing oil outpoured.
The maidens love you, but I will not share
with them my love for you whom I adore.
Take me away with you—let us make haste!
Oh, let the king bring me into his room.
I tremble when I am by you embraced.
I cherish you, my dearest and my groom.
Our love is more delightful than the wine
pressed from the grapes we gathered from the vine.
|Young Woman with Lowered Eyes, Frederic Bazille, 1869|