Last night I drank sweet wine that overflowed
the lips of your jeweled goblet. I held it
in my hands, I licked wine from your fingers,
savoring its warmth and rich spices.
I drank slowly to make it last all night.
I sampled your wine, rolled it on my tongue;
you tasted your wine, kissed it from my lips.
I lifted the cup you offered to me
and drank deeply of white wine and passion.
You drank from my flowing fountain all night.
Holding Hands
I.
Take my hands, my Dear One,
My gazelle of the fields,
Take my hands in your own
And learn their character.
Why, you are trembling,
Shaking like a startled doe
That freezes before she bounds away.
Don't be frightened, Dear One.
I am undone by your touch.
Please don't run from me now!
II.
My lord, my Beloved,
I tremble in fear of you.
I am frightened
For you, my lord, are strong.
Your hands alone are terrifying
Yet your lips are intoxicating.
I tremble to hold your hands
I drink deeply of your spiced wine.
III.
Oh, my Dear One!
I do not want to frighten you
On our night of nights.
Come, rest your head here
Upon my shoulder,
Let me cradle you in my arms
As I have so often held you.
Let me calm you, Dear One,
With my voice and hands
And when you no longer tremble
We will drink together of spiced wine.
Invocation
Solomon and Shulamith,
You faithful muses,
Help me here forthwith;
For your love infuses
The pages in this hand
That the reader's eye peruses.
Help this poet to command
The powers of your word
To make it clear and understand
All that has been heard.
Beloved and your Dear One,
Do not speak to be overheard
We leave you now to what you have begun
Down in the forests of cinnamon.
Don't blow out our lamp, beloved
for we no longer need to hide
our fears in darkness.
It is true I came into our
chambers that first night with great fear
for you are so strong.
But I felt how your arms trembled
when you drew me to your chest in
that silent darkness.
You have held bouquets of lilies
and drunk goblets of rare spiced wine �
we don't need to hide!
Consequences of War
I am a wall unbreeched. I am a strong wall unbroken.
My breasts are like towers upon the wall.
My breasts, the towers of the watchmen who guard against invasion �
The truth as I wish it could be.
But the truth as I know it is different.
I am a wall once breeched but the invader repelled.
I am a strong wall broken but repaired.
My breasts are like towers that bore the brunt of an assault.
My breasts, the towers of the watchmen, destroyed and repaired.
Dance of Seven Veils
Shulamith dances.
Her hair falling around her
Like a veil trapping his fingers
In its thick curls,
Her hair falling around her,
Hiding her blushing cheeks
While its thick curls
Make him want to brush her locks away
From her blushing cheeks
And gaze into her lowered eyes.
He wants to brush her locks away,
Savoring the texture against his skin �
Like a veil that traps his fingers
As he gazes into her eyes
And savors the texture against his skin
As Shulamith dances.
Dear One, the Time for Singing is at Hand
My Beloved, you
Are mine and I am yours; come
Feed your flocks among
The lilies. Your flocks will eat
And they will be satisfied.
But this is not the season for lilies!
These lilies, my Beloved,
These are blooming and fragrant
And sweet to the taste.
Come, gather them in your hands,
Yes, eat, and be filled.
My Dear One, these lilies are exquisite!
Song of Songs
Journal
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All work � Shulamith Smith, 2004, unless otherwise noted.