5-6 I am weathered but still elegant,
    oh, dear sisters in Jerusalem,
Weather-darkened like Kedar desert tents,
    time-softened like Solomon’s Temple hangings.
Don’t look down on me because I’m dark,
    darkened by the sun’s harsh rays.
My brothers ridiculed me and sent me to work in the fields.
    They made me care for the face of the earth,
    but I had no time to care for my own face.

Tell me where you’re working
    —I love you so much—
Tell me where you’re tending your flocks,
    where you let them rest at noontime.
Why should I be the one left out,
    outside the orbit of your tender care?

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Dark am I, yet lovely,(A)
    daughters of Jerusalem,(B)
dark like the tents of Kedar,(C)
    like the tent curtains of Solomon.[a]
Do not stare at me because I am dark,
    because I am darkened by the sun.
My mother’s sons were angry with me
    and made me take care of the vineyards;(D)
    my own vineyard I had to neglect.
Tell me, you whom I love,
    where you graze your flock
    and where you rest your sheep(E) at midday.
Why should I be like a veiled(F) woman
    beside the flocks of your friends?

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Footnotes

  1. Song of Songs 1:5 Or Salma