The Beloved to Her Lover:
8:1 Oh, how I wish you were my little brother,
nursing at my mother’s breasts;
if I saw you outside, I could kiss you –
surely no one would despise me!
The Beloved’s Brothers:
8:8 We have a little sister,
and as yet she has no breasts.
What shall we do for our sister
on the day when she is spoken for?
The Beloved:
8:10 I was a wall,
and my breasts were like fortress towers.
Then I found favor in his eyes.