Shir Hashirim (Song of Songs)

The ancient text of Shir Hashirim has been set to music by many different composers over the centuries. Composer Benjamin Shorstein has approached this Jewish allegorical story with clever and creative tone painting of the text. At certain moments he sets each verse to a different key, like mini-songs, and other times he creates a big arching sweep of melody over many verses. Each chapter has its own unique quality, however the whole is unified in tone and melodic congruity.

Rebecca Shorstein’s beautiful and expressive voice captures the changing moods of the text and music with a full range of timbres and dynamics. Pianist Alden Gatt deftly navigates the wide dynamic range and varied accompaniment figures and techniques.

-Sigal Chen

Shir Hashirim is an enigma. This poem in eight chapters is part of the Hebrew biblical canon, though it makes no reference to God. It is revered by some as the holiest of texts, yet the words are about sensual love and contain nothing overtly religious. Over 2,000 years old, this ancient Israelite poem is beautiful in its innocence and simplicity. There is no clearly defined story, however the same man and woman narrate in turn, passionately expressing their love for each other.

In 2013, my sister Rebecca and I started talking about doing a song cycle based on an ancient Hebrew text. We found Shir Hashirim, which means Song of Songs, and knew this was it. In 2015, Rebecca came up with the theme for the opening bars of the piece. I then wrote the melodies for chapters 1, 2, and 4-7 before setting aside the project for several years. About five years later, in the midst of the pandemic, I felt I had gained enough experience to complete the piece, which I did in early 2021 by writing the melodies for chapters 3 and 8 and the piano parts for all chapters.

Setting music to words is a transcendent experience. You must try to understand the poetry and feel it emotionally, but in a way you also must merge your own being with the language. While this can be natural when setting words of your native tongue, the task becomes massively more daunting when setting music to a foreign language. I’ve done my best to bring the poetry to life through music. Rebecca and Alden have done an incredible job performing the piece. We hope you enjoy!

-Benjamin Shorstein

Translation from the ancient Hebrew:

Chapter 1
1 The Song of Songs, which is Solomon’s
2 Kiss me, make me drunk with your kisses!
Your sweet loving
is better than wine.

3 You are fragrant,
you are myrrh and aloes.
All the young women want you.

4 Take me by the hand, let us run together!

My lover, my king, has brought me into his chambers.
We will laugh, you and I, and count
each kiss,
better than wine.

Every one of them wants you.

5 I am dark, daughters of Jerusalem,
and I am beautiful!
Dark as the tents of Kedar, lavish
as Solomon’s tapestries.

6 Do not see me only as dark:
the sun has stared at me.

My brothers were angry with me,
they made me guard the vineyards.
I have not guarded my own.

7 Tell me, my only love,
where do you pasture your sheep,
where will you let them rest
in the heat of noon?
Why should I lose my way among the flocks
of your companions?

8 Loveliest of women,
if you lose your way,
follow in the tracks of the sheep,
graze your goats in the shade
of the shepherds’ tents.

9 My love, I dreamed of you
as a mare, my very own,
among Pharaoh’s chariots.

10 Your cheekbones,
those looped earrings,
that string of beads at your throat!

11 I will make you golden earrings
with silver filigree.

12 My king lay down beside me
and my fragrance
wakened the night.

13 All night between my breasts
my love is a cluster of myrrh,
14 a sheaf of henna blossoms
in the vineyards of Ein Gedi.

15 And you, my beloved,
how beautiful you are!
Your eyes are doves.

16 You are beautiful, my king,
and gentle. Wherever we lie
our bed is green.
17 Our roofbeams are cedar,
our rafters fir.



Chapter 2
1 I am the rose of Sharon,
the wild lily of the valleys.

2 Like a lily in a field
of thistles,
such is my love
among the young women.

3 And my beloved among the young men
is a branching apricot tree in the wood.
In that shade I have often lingered,
tasting the fruit.

4 Now he has brought me to the house of wine
and his flag over me is love.

5 Let me lie among vine blossoms,
in a bed of apricots!
I am in the fever of love.

6 His left hand beneath my head,
his right arm
holding me close.

7 Daughters of Jerusalem, swear to me
by the gazelles, by the deer in the field,
that you will never awaken love
until it is ripe.

8 The voice of my love: listen!
bounding over the mountains
toward me, across the hills.

9 My love is a gazelle, a wild stag.
There he stands on the other side
of our wall, gazing
between the stones.

10 And he calls to me:
Hurry, my love, my friend,
and come away!

11 Look, winter is over,
the rains are done,
12 wildflowers spring up in the fields.
Now is the time of the nightingale.
In every meadow you hear
the song of the turtledove.

13 The fig tree has sweetened
its new green fruit
and the young budded vines smell spicy.
Hurry, my love, my friend
come away.

14 My dove in the clefts of the rock,
in the shadow of the cliff,
let me see you, all of you!
Let me hear your voice,
your delicious song.
I love to look at you.

15 Catch us the foxes,
the quick little foxes
that raid our vineyards
now, when the vines are in blossom.


16 My beloved is mine and I am his.
He feasts
in a field of lilies.

17 Before day breathes,
before the shadows of night are gone,
run away, my love!
Be like a gazelle, a wild stag
on the jagged mountains.



Chapter 3
1 At night in my bed I longed
for my only love.
I sought him, but did not find him.

2 I must rise and go about the city,
the narrow streets and squares, till I find
my only love.
I sought him everywhere
but I could not find him.

3 Then the watchmen found me
as they went about the city.
“Have you seen him? Have you seen
the one I love?”

4 I had just passed them when I found
my only love.
I held him, I would not let him go
until I brought him to my mother’s house,
into my mother’s room.

5 Daughters of Jerusalem, swear to me
by the gazelles, by the deer in the field,
that you will never awaken love
until it is ripe.

6 Who is that rising from the desert
like a pillar of smoke,
more fragrant with myrrh and frankincense
than all the spices of the merchant!

7 Oh the splendors of King Solomon!
The bravest of Israel surround his bed,
threescore warriors,
8 each of them skilled in battle,
each with his sword on his thigh
against the terror of night.

9 King Solomon built a pavilion
from the cedars of Lebanon.
10 Its pillars he made of silver,
cushions of gold,
couches of purple linen,
and the daughters of Jerusalem
paved it with love.

11 Come out, O daughters of Zion,
and gaze at Solomon the King!
See the crown his mother set on his head
on the day of his wedding,
the day of his heart’s great joy.

Chapter 4
1 How beautiful you are, my love,
my friend! the doves of your eyes
looking out
from the thicket of your hair.

Your hair
like a flock of goats
bounding down Mount Gilead.

2 Your teeth white ewes,
all alike,
that come up fresh from the pond.

3 A crimson ribbon your lips---
how I listen for your voice!

The curve of your cheek
a pomegranate
in the thicket of your hair.

4 Your neck is a tower of David
raised in splendor,
a thousand bucklers hang upon it,
all shields of the warriors.

5 Your breasts are two fawns,
twins of a gazelle,
grazing in a field of lilies.

6 Before day breathes,
before the shadows of night are gone,
I will hurry to the mountain of myrrh,
the hill of frankincense.
7 You are all beautiful, my love,
my perfect one.

8 Oh come with me, my bride,
come down with me from Lebanon.
Look down from the peak of Amana,
look down from Senir and Hermon,
from the mountains of the leopards,
the lions’ dens.

9 You have ravished my heart,
my sister, my bride,
ravished me with one glance of your eyes,
one link of your necklace.

10 And oh, your sweet loving,
my sister, my bride.
The wine of your kisses, the spice
of your fragrant oils.

11 Your lips are honey, honey and milk
are under your tongue,
your clothes hold the scent of Lebanon.

12 An enclosed garden is my sister, my bride,
a hidden well, a sealed spring.

13 Your branches are an orchard
of pomegranate trees heavy with fruit,
flowering henna and spikenard,
14 spikenard and saffron, cane and cinnamon,
with every tree of frankincense,
myrrh and aloes,
all the rare spices.

15 You are a fountain in the garden,
a well of living waters
that stream from Lebanon.

16 Awake, north wind! O south wind, come,
breathe upon my garden,
let its spices stream out.
Let my lover come into his garden
and taste its delicious fruit.

Chapter 5
1 I have come into my garden,
my sister, my bride,
I have gathered my myrrh and my spices,
I have eaten from the honeycomb,
I have drunk the milk and the wine.

Feast, friends, and drink
till you are drunk with love!

2 I was asleep but my heart stayed awake.
Listen!
my lover knocking:

“Open, my sister, my friend,
my dove, my perfect one!
My hair is wet, drenched
with the dew of the night.”

3 “But I have taken off my clothes,
how can I dress again?
I have bathed my feet,
must I dirty them?”

4 My love reached in for the latch
and my heart
beat wild.

5 I rose to open to my love,
my fingers wet with myrrh,
sweet flowing myrrh
on the doorbolt.

6 I opened to my love
but he had slipped away.
How I wanted him when he spoke!

I sought him everywhere
but could not find him.
I called his name
but he did not answer.

7 Then the watchmen found me
as they went about the city.
They beat me, they bruised me,
they tore the shawl from my shoulders,
those watchmen of the walls.


8 Swear to me, daughters of Jerusalem!
If you find him now
you must tell him
I am in the fever of love.

9 How is your lover different
from any other, O beautiful woman?
Who is your lover
that we must swear to you?

10 My beloved is milk and wine,
he towers
above ten thousand.

11 His head is burnished gold,
the mane of his hair
black as the raven.

12 His eyes like doves
by the rivers
of milk and plenty.

13 His cheeks a bed of spices,
a treasure
of precious scents, his lips
red lilies wet with myrrh.

14 His arm a golden scepter with gems of topaz,
his loins the ivory of thrones
inlaid with sapphire,
15 his thighs like marble pillars
on pedestals of gold.

Tall as Mount Lebanon,
a man like a cedar!

16 His mouth is sweet wine, he is all delight.

This is my beloved
and this is my friend,
O daughters of Jerusalem.

Chapter 6
1 Where has your lover gone,
O beautiful one?
Say where he is
and we will seek him with you.

2 My love has gone down to
his garden, to the beds of spices,
to graze and to gather lilies.

3 My beloved is mine and I am his.
He feasts
in a field of lilies.

4 You are beautiful, my love, as Tirzah,
majestic as Jerusalem,
daunting
as the stars in their courses.

5 Your eyes! Turn them away
for they dazzle me.

Your hair is like a flock of goats
bounding down Mount Gilead.

6 Your teeth white ewes,
all alike,
that come up fresh from the pond.

7 The curve of your cheek
a pomegranate
in your thicket of hair.

8 Threescore are the queens,
fourscore the king’s women,
and maidens, maidens without number.

9 One alone is my dove,
my perfect, my only one,
love of her mother, light
of her mother’s eyes.

Every maiden calls her happy,
queens praise her,
and all the king’s women:

10 “Who is that rising like the morning star,
clear as the moon,
bright as the blazing sun,
daunting as the stars in their courses!”

11 Then I went to the walnut grove
to see the new green by the brook,
to see if the vine had budded,
if the pomegranate trees were in flower.

12 And oh! before I was aware,
she sat me in the most lavish of chariots.


Chapter 7
1 Again, O Shulamite,
dance again,
that we may watch you dancing!

Why do you gaze at the Shulamite
as she whirls
down the rows of dancers?

2 How graceful your steps in those sandals,
O nobleman’s daughter.

The gold of your thigh
shaped by a master craftsman.

3 Your navel is the moon’s
bright drinking cup.
May it brim with wine!

Your belly is a mound of wheat
edged with lilies.
4 Your breasts are two fawns,
twins of a gazelle.

5 Your neck is a tower of ivory.
Your eyes are pools in Heshbon, at the gates
of that city of lords.
Your proud nose the tower of Lebanon
that looks toward Damascus.

6 Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel,
the hair of your head
like royal purple. A king
is caught in the thicket.

7 How wonderful you are, O Love,
how much sweeter
than all other pleasures!

8 That day you seemed to me a tall palm tree
and your breasts
the clusters of its fruit.

9 I said in my heart,
Let me climb into that palm tree
and take hold of its branches.

And oh, may your breasts be like clusters
of grapes on a vine, the scent
of your breath like apricots,
10 your mouth good wine ---

That pleases my lover, rousing him
even from sleep.

11 I am my lover’s,
he longs for me,
only for me.

12 Come, my beloved,
let us go out into the fields
and lie all night among the flowering henna.

13 Let us go early to the vineyards
to see if the vine has budded,
if the blossoms have opened
and the pomegranate is in flower.

There I will give you my love.

14 The air is filled with the scent of mandrakes
and at our doors
rare fruit of every kind, my love,
I have stored away for you.


Chapter 8
1 If only you were a brother
who nursed at my mother’s breast!
I would kiss you in the streets
and no one would scorn me.

2 I would bring you to the house of my mother
and she would teach me.
I would give you spiced wine to drink,
my pomegranate wine.

3 His left hand beneath my head,
his right arm
holding me close.

4 Daughters of Jerusalem, swear to me
that you will never awaken love
until it is ripe.

5 Who is that
rising from the desert,
her head on her lover’s shoulder!
There, beneath the apricot tree,
your mother conceived you,
there you were born.
In that very place, I awakened you.

6 Bind me as a seal upon your heart,
a sign upon your arm,

for love is a fierce as death,
its jealousy bitter as the grave.
Even its sparks are a raging fire,
a devouring flame.

7 Great seas cannot extinguish love,
no river can sweet it away.

If a man tried to buy love
with all the wealth of his house,
he would be despised.

8 We have a little sister
and she has no breasts.
What shall we do for our sister
when suitors besiege her?

9 If she is a wall, we will build
a silver turret upon her.
If she is a door, we will bolt her
with beams of cedarwood.

10 I am a wall
and my breasts are towers.
But for my lover I am
a city of peace.


11 King Solomon had a vineyard
on the Hill of Plenty.
He gave that vineyard to watchmen
and each would earn for its fruit
one thousand pieces of silver.

12 My vineyard is all my own.
Keep your thousand, Solomon! And pay
two hundred to those
who must guard the fruit.

13 O woman in the garden,
all our friends listen for your voice.
Let me hear it now.

14 Hurry, my love! Run away,
my gazelle, my wild stag
on the hills of cinnamon.


Translation copyright © 1995 by Ariel Bloch and Chana Bloch. Reprinted with permission of Georges Borchardt, Inc., on behalf of Ariel Bloch and Chana Bloch.