We arrive at the fifth song in Shir HaShirim, according to the Malbim's division. This is the longest of all the songs: it extends from the sixth chapter, beginning with "Where has your beloved gone, O fairest among women," through the eighth chapter, concluding with the verse just before "We have a little sister."
Let us briefly review the parable as a whole: a shepherd loved a maiden, and she loved him with an intense love. King Solomon took her by force into his palace, where she was held captive. At every opportunity she attempted to flee to her beloved, while he waited for her and sought her out. Time and again she was drawn after him and ran away, only for the daughters of Jerusalem to bring her back to Solomon's palace. Thus, throughout the entire book, an ongoing exchange unfolds between the maiden and the daughters of Jerusalem from the palace, while her beloved comes to visit her or she ventures out to him into the wilderness, ultimately being forced to return to her place. And the nimshal (inner meaning), as we have explained: Solomon's soul departs from the physical body to unite with the Holy One, Blessed be He, in prophecy, until the body once again forces it back into attachment with itself. The body is Solomon, and the maiden represents Solomon's soul.
In the fifth song, the Malbim explains, the beloved comes to the maiden in the end of days, silently and unseen. The daughters of Jerusalem and King Solomon himself argue with her and plead with her not to leave them, not to unite completely with her beloved. Yet she summons all her strength through the greatness of her love, goes out to her beloved in the wilderness, and never returns. Ultimately, the singers declare, "Many waters cannot quench love" - the maiden's love for her beloved triumphs over all.
אָנָה הָלַךְ דּוֹדֵךְ הַיָּפָה בַּנָּשִׁים, אָנָה פָּנָה דוֹדֵךְ וּנְבַקְשֶׁנּוּ עִמָּךְ׃ (ו, א) - Where has your beloved gone, O fairest among women? Where has your beloved turned, that we may seek him with you? (6:1)
After the maiden described her beloved to them - "His head is fine gold, his locks are curled, black as a raven" - they are now willing to help her search for him. Having heard of his virtues and uniqueness, they say: indeed, he is so extraordinary, we wish to assist you in drawing close to him. Therefore they ask: "Where has your beloved gone" - where is his place? And if you do not know his exact location, at least tell us "Where has your beloved turned" - in which direction did he turn, so that we know where to head and look for him there, "that we may seek him with you."
דּוֹדִי יָרַד לְגַנּוֹ לַעֲרֻגוֹת הַבֹּשֶׂם, לִרְעוֹת בַּגַּנִּים וְלִלְקֹט שׁוֹשַׁנִּים׃ (ו, ב) - My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to pasture in the gardens and to gather lilies. (6:2)
Even as they are speaking, explains the Malbim, while they are in the king's garden, the beloved - the shepherd - descends from the cleft mountains and enters the garden. Notice the precise phrasing: his primary destination is not the garden at large, but "to the beds of spices." Who is this bed of spices? His bride, the flowerbed that gives fragrance to the entire garden. The shepherd has come to gaze upon the gardens and pasture his flock there, but for himself he gathers nothing other than "to gather lilies" - the one single lily, his beloved and the bride of his youth, for whose sake alone he has come here.
אֲנִי לְדוֹדִי וְדוֹדִי לִי הָרֹעֶה בַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים׃ (ו, ג) - I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine; he pastures among the lilies. (6:3)
The bride declares: I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine, for he has brought me lilies as an offering - as a token and gift of love.
יָפָה אַתְּ רַעְיָתִי כְּתִרְצָה, נָאוָה כִּירוּשָׁלִָם, אֲיֻמָּה כַּנִּדְגָּלוֹת׃ (ו, ד) - "You are beautiful, my beloved, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, awesome as bannered legions." (6:4)
"As Tirzah" - related to the word ratzon (favor or will), the Malbim explains: You are beautiful in my eyes because you have become appeased toward me and your desire has returned to me. For we saw earlier, in "The voice of my beloved knocks: Open to me, my sister, my companion," that the maiden had become engrossed in the palace of Shlomo and did not seek her beloved. It was as though the bond had been severed: she was drawn after the pleasures of the palace and joined with King Shlomo, while the shepherd who waited for her in the wilderness beyond the cleft mountains no longer captured her heart. And when she rose to open - "my beloved had slipped away, passed on" in his anger. Now they return and reunite: "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine." Therefore he tells her that you have been appeased toward me a second time, and through this, my desire to bond with you has returned. "Comely as Jerusalem" - like all the daughters of Jerusalem. "Awesome as bannered legions" (k'nidgalot) - nidgalot as in "and his banner over me is love," meaning many army encampments, which will now be in awe and afraid to approach you, because they will see that you are close to me, close to your beloved.
הָסֵבִּי עֵינַיִךְ מִנֶּגְדִּי שֶׁהֵם הִרְהִיבֻנִי, שַׂעְרֵךְ כְּעֵדֶר הָעִזִּים שֶׁגָּלְשׁוּ מִן הַגִּלְעָד׃ שִׁנַּיִךְ כְּעֵדֶר הָרְחֵלִים שֶׁעָלוּ מִן הָרַחְצָה, שֶׁכֻּלָּם מַתְאִימוֹת וְשַׁכֻּלָה אֵין בָּהֶם׃ כְּפֶלַח הָרִמּוֹן רַקָּתֵךְ מִבַּעַד לְצַמָּתֵךְ׃ (ו, ה-ז) - "Turn your eyes away from me, for they overcome me; your hair is like a flock of goats trailing down from Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of ewes coming up from the wash, all of which bear twins, and none among them is bereaved. Like a slice of pomegranate is your temple behind your veil." (6:5-7)
"From opposite me" (minegdi) means from afar, as in the phrase "and she stood from afar" (mineged). He tells her: Turn your eyes that stand opposite me from afar. Until now, you were gazing at Shlomo's chambers and his palace, and to me you cast only sidelong glances, at an angle, as if from a distance. But now - turn your eyes and direct them fully back to me, so that they cling to me constantly. And from here on he describes her beauty: your hair, your teeth, and your temple like a slice of pomegranate.
שִׁשִּׁים הֵמָּה מְלָכוֹת וּשְׁמֹנִים פִּילַגְשִׁים וַעֲלָמוֹת אֵין מִסְפָּר׃ (ו, ח) - "There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, and maidens without number." (6:8)
The beloved sees that the daughters of Jerusalem are coming and standing around her, as though wishing to prevent her from leaving. He says to them: Surely Shlomo has many women - sixty queens, eighty concubines, and maidens without number. Why should he rob my beloved, who to me is singular and unique? He has all of these, so why did he take specifically my beloved?
אַחַת הִיא יוֹנָתִי תַמָּתִי, אַחַת הִיא לְאִמָּהּ בָּרָה הִיא לְיוֹלַדְתָּהּ, רָאוּהָ בָנוֹת וַיְאַשְּׁרוּהָ מְלָכוֹת וּפִילַגְשִׁים וַיְהַלְלוּהָ׃ (ו, ט) - "One is my dove, my perfect one; she is the only one of her mother, pure to her that bore her. Daughters saw her and called her blessed; queens and concubines, and they praised her." (6:9)
She is the only one to me, my dove, my perfect one; I have no companion or friend besides her. Moreover, "she is the only one of her mother" - she is an only daughter, and her mother bore no other daughter like her. "Pure is she to her that bore her" (barah hi leyoladetah) - pure and selected (berurah), as though her mother selected for herself all the beauty and all the grace in the world and bestowed them upon this daughter. So much so that whoever sees her calls her blessed: "Daughters saw her and called her blessed" - all declare that there is none like her. And even "queens and concubines praised her" - even though they are her co-wives, and it is the nature of a co-wife (tzarah) to speak disparagingly of her rival, here on the contrary, even they perceive her praiseworthiness and laud her. If so, Shlomo has sixty queens, eighty concubines, and maidens without number - why does he take specifically my only one?
מִי זֹאת הַנִּשְׁקָפָה כְּמוֹ שָׁחַר, יָפָה כַלְּבָנָה בָּרָה כַּחַמָּה, אֲיֻמָּה כַּנִּדְגָּלוֹת׃ (ו, י) - "Who is this that looks forth like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, pure as the sun, awesome as bannered legions?" (6:10)
Now the daughters of Jerusalem approach her and ask. The Malbim explains: Dawn is what connects day and night. And as is well known, the most magnificent scenes are sunrise and sunset - the time when day and night meet is the most beautiful and unique time, when one sees the moon setting in its beauty and the sun rising in its splendor. She resembles both luminaries at once: at the break of dawn, when the moon is still visible and the sun begins to rise - "beautiful as the moon" which is still present, "pure as the sun" which is shining forth. And also "awesome as bannered legions," like the hosts of the stars and the heavenly legion glistening at dawn.
אֶל גִּנַּת אֱגוֹז יָרַדְתִּי לִרְאוֹת בְּאִבֵּי הַנָּחַל, לִרְאוֹת הֲפָרְחָה הַגֶּפֶן הֵנֵצוּ הָרִמֹּנִים׃ (ו, יא) - I went down to the walnut grove to see the fresh growth of the valley, to see whether the vine had budded and the pomegranates were in bloom. (6:11)
The beloved answers the daughters of Jerusalem, who had asked, "Who is this looking forth like the dawn," and begins to offer excuses for why she left her chamber to gaze outward at daybreak: I went down to the walnut grove, went for a stroll to look at the fresh growth of the stream bed, and from there to see if the vine has blossomed and the pomegranates have budded - I am just taking a stroll through the garden.
לֹא יָדַעְתִּי נַפְשִׁי שָׂמַתְנִי מַרְכְּבוֹת עַמִּי נָדִיב׃ (ו, יב) - I did not know; my soul set me upon the chariots of my noble nation. (6:12)
Yet immediately she retracts her words, explains the Malbim, and admits: I myself do not know why I went out. Rather, "my soul" - that is my shepherd beloved, who is the very essence of my soul, my life, and my spirit - he is the one who set me upon "the chariots of my noble nation." He drives me like a swift chariot toward the noble members of my people, to reconnect once again with my roots, so that I will not remain confined within Shlomo's chamber, but go forth as though riding in a chariot toward my people and my beloved, back to the village and the countryside from where Shlomo took me. In other words: I do not know on my own why I am leaving; rather, my beloved, the shepherd who is my soul, carries me upon his chariots to bring me back to his domain.
שׁוּבִי שׁוּבִי הַשּׁוּלַמִּית שׁוּבִי שׁוּבִי וְנֶחֱזֶה בָּךְ, מַה תֶּחֱזוּ בַּשּׁוּלַמִּית כִּמְחֹלַת הַמַּחֲנָיִם׃ (ז, א) - Return, return, O Shulammite; return, return, that we may gaze upon you. Why do you gaze at the Shulammite like the dance of the two camps? (7:1)
Once she reveals to them her intention to leave and return to her beloved, the daughters of Jerusalem begin pleading with her not to go: Return, return to Shlomo's chamber, and we will gaze upon you and treat you with the honor befitting a queen. The beloved replies to them: "Why do you gaze at the Shulammite" - how could you treat me with honor, when among you I am "like the dance of the two camps"? I am always surrounded by two camps watching over me; I am effectively a captive in your midst! How can you tell me to return as a queen? What kind of queen? One camp stationed around another to confine me and prevent me from leaving!
מַה יָּפוּ פְעָמַיִךְ בַּנְּעָלִים בַּת נָדִיב, חַמּוּקֵי יְרֵכַיִךְ כְּמוֹ חֲלָאִים מַעֲשֵׂה יְדֵי אָמָּן׃ (ז, ב) - How beautiful are your steps in sandals, O noble daughter! The curves of your thighs are like jewels, the work of a master craftsman's hands. (7:2)
Here begins the theme that will run through all the upcoming verses: the daughters of Jerusalem argue that all of the beloved's virtues exist solely because she is here, in Shlomo's palace. "How beautiful are your steps" - your steps are indeed graceful, but only "in sandals": only when you walk shod in fine footwear, not when you are barefoot. It is Shlomo's palace that provides you with shoes, but if you go out to your shepherd beloved out there in the wilderness, you will have no shoes there, and your beauty will be degraded.
"The curves of your thighs are like jewels" - Rashi explains that chali and ketem refer to gold ornaments, as in the phrase "adorned with nose ring and jewelry [vechelyatah]." A ketem is a gold ornament, as in "pure gold [ketem paz]." The curves of your thighs are like golden jewelry, but only if they are "the work of a master craftsman's hands" - only when adorned with fine ornaments expertly crafted by an artisan, unique, distinctive, and exquisite. With your beloved, by contrast, you will have no such jewelry. In plain words: all your beauty exists only here, when you are adorned in Shlomo's palace. But out there, without shoes and without fine jewelry, where will your beauty be? Pay close attention to these words, as we will later want to examine how they find expression in the allegory, the deeper metaphorical meaning.
שָׁרְרֵךְ אַגַּן הַסַּהַר אַל יֶחְסַר הַמָּזֶג, בִּטְנֵךְ עֲרֵמַת חִטִּים סוּגָה בַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים׃ (ז, ג) - Your navel is a round basin that never lacks spiced wine; your belly is a heap of wheat hedged with roses. (7:3)
"A round goblet" (agan hasahar) is a reservoir of liquids, like a basin containing drink. And they argue: you are accustomed to drinking wine to your fill, "let not mixed wine be lacking" - the blending of wine as well - is available to you only here. Blending (mezeg) refers to mixing, as they used to dilute wine with water, which required great expertise to know the exact proportions. There, with the shepherd, no one will blend wine for you. "Your belly is a heap of wheat hedged with roses" - your stomach too will not lack a heap of wheat; wheat is an expression denoting food and nourishment, and in Shlomo's palace there is food and sustenance in abundance. Thus, it is specifically here that you have jewelry, adornment, wine, bread, and proper food - none of which you will have in the home of the poor shepherd.
שְׁנֵי שָׁדַיִךְ כִּשְׁנֵי עֳפָרִים תָּאֳמֵי צְבִיָּה׃ (ז, ד) - "Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle." (7:4)
Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle - tzviyah (gazelle) relates to tzvi, meaning splendor and beauty. That is: specifically in the king's ornate chambers, where every delight is found, will your unique beauty and splendor be fully realized, and not in the home of the shepherd.
צַוָּארֵךְ כְּמִגְדַּל הַשֵּׁן, עֵינַיִךְ בְּרֵכוֹת בְּחֶשְׁבּוֹן עַל שַׁעַר בַּת רַבִּים, אַפֵּךְ כְּמִגְדַּל הַלְּבָנוֹן צוֹפֶה פְּנֵי דַמָּשֶׂק׃ (ז, ה) - "Your neck is like a tower of ivory, your eyes like pools in Cheshbon by the gate of Bat Rabbim, your nose like the tower of Lebanon overlooking Damascus." (7:5)
Your neck resembles an ivory tower, and your eyes resemble the pools in Cheshbon - which are always moist and fresh. Therefore, it is fitting that they be "by the gate of Bat Rabbim," meaning in Yerushalayim and in Shlomo's palace, a bustling place of many people (bat rabbim), and not in some ruin in the wilderness with the shepherd. They deserve to be in a magnificent, dignified place. "Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon overlooking Damascus" - the nose resembles the tower of Lebanon, which looks toward Damascus; and Damascus at the time the song was composed was a settled metropolis, not a wasteland, a ruin, or a battlefront. Therefore, they argue: why hide away all this extraordinary beauty among the parched dwellings out in the desert? First, all this beauty and splendor exists only here in the palaces of Shlomo; second, here you also have an abundance of wine and bread; and third, such beauty belongs at the gate of Bat Rabbim, not in a place where none of this beauty can ever find expression.
רֹאשֵׁךְ עָלַיִךְ כַּכַּרְמֶל וְדַלַּת רֹאשֵׁךְ כָּאַרְגָּמָן, מֶלֶךְ אָסוּר בָּרְהָטִים׃ (ז, ו) - "Your head upon you is like Carmel, and the hair of your head like purple; a king is held captive in the tresses." (7:6)
Your head upon you resembles Mount Carmel in its immense beauty and majestic grandeur. "The hair of your head" (dallat roshech) refers to the elevated part of the head, from the root lidlot (to draw upward), and Rashi explains that it refers to the high braid of hair - which is like royal purple. And "a king is held captive in the tresses (bahattim)": rehatim are the woven braids or cords used to fasten belts, where at the edge of the belt there are fringes and threads with which it is tied. That is: King Shlomo is bound by the fetters of love and cannot move without you, like one held in chains; he is, as it were, bound to you by your love.
מַה יָּפִית וּמַה נָּעַמְתְּ אַהֲבָה בַּתַּעֲנוּגִים׃ (ז, ז) - "How fair and how pleasant you are, O love, with delights!" (7:7)
The quality of love - how beautiful and how pleasant it is! But all of this is true when it is bound up with delights. To love the king is lovely and pleasant when accompanied by the delights described here: jewelry, wine, bread, and sustenance. But what will you do there, with the impoverished shepherd? Love, perhaps - but delights, none. And such love is neither beautiful nor pleasant. Which love is truly beautiful and pleasant? That which comes along with delights - and you will find that only here, in the palaces of Shlomo.
זֹאת קוֹמָתֵךְ דָּמְתָה לְתָמָר וְשָׁדַיִךְ לְאַשְׁכֹּלוֹת׃ (ז, ח) - "This stature of yours is like a palm tree, and your breasts like clusters." (7:8)
Here King Shlomo himself steps in, says the Malbim, speaking to the heart of the Maiden so that she will not leave him and return to her husband and beloved. He says to her: look at your stature, as you stand now upright in pride and strength, resembling a towering palm tree, which virtually no one can climb. "And your breasts like clusters" - resembling luscious clusters in their excellence.
אָמַרְתִּי אֶעֱלֶה בְתָמָר אֹחֲזָה בְּסַנְסִנָּיו, וְיִהְיוּ נָא שָׁדַיִךְ כְּאֶשְׁכְּלוֹת הַגֶּפֶן וְרֵיחַ אַפֵּךְ כַּתַּפּוּחִים׃ (ז, ט) - "I said: 'I will climb up into the palm tree, I will grasp its branches; may your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the fragrance of your breath like apples.'" (7:9)
Nevertheless, Shlomo says, I said I will climb the palm tree: I will exert all my strength to ascend to your height and attain you, for she is already standing ready to leave, her face turned toward the outside. And even though the palm tree is smooth and anyone attempting to climb it slips - "I will grasp its branches," I will hold fast to its boughs so that I do not fall as I ascend. I will do everything to win your love. And I ask of you that your breasts be like clusters of the vine, for when one presses grapes, wine flows forth, an aspect of abundance that you will bestow upon me, and the fragrance of your breath like apples that emit a pleasant aroma.
וְחִכֵּךְ כְּיֵין הַטּוֹב הוֹלֵךְ לְדוֹדִי לְמֵישָׁרִים דּוֹבֵב שִׂפְתֵי יְשֵׁנִים׃ (ז, י) - "And the roof of your mouth like the best wine, that goes down smoothly for my beloved, stirring the lips of those who sleep." (7:10)
Shlomo asks that the roof of her mouth be to him like fine wine that gladdens the heart, all in order to persuade her to remain with him. But here the maiden interrupts and answers: "It goes down smoothly for my beloved." This wine of my palate, which you desire, will not quench your thirst and will not be yours; rather, it goes to my beloved - to my beloved shepherd. Do not ascend to my stature, and do not attempt to attain me or seek me out, for I am going to my beloved. And it is not I who am uprightness; rather, my beloved is uprightness itself, he is righteousness and justice, and toward him one must aspire.
"Stirring the lips of those who sleep" - out of the intensity of my longing for my beloved, even when my lips are asleep, they murmur with love for him and speak of him, saying: "I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me." This is a major principle: what a person utters in his sleep always reflects the hidden yearnings of his heart. As discussed at length in the teachings on dreams, where one can see the words of Rabbi Tzadok HaKohen of Lublin, what happens to a person during sleep reveals what lies buried in the depths of his heart. In a conscious state, a person can conceal his desires, passions, and inner motives, but when unconscious - his inner self is revealed unvarnished and without filters. Only then can a person truly know his aspirations, his real desires, and who his inner self truly is. Therefore, the maiden says: Even while I sleep, my lips stir from the depth of my longing for my beloved - "I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me."
אֲנִי לְדוֹדִי וְעָלַי תְּשׁוּקָתוֹ׃ לְכָה דוֹדִי נֵצֵא הַשָּׂדֶה נָלִינָה בַּכְּפָרִים׃ (ז, יא-יב) - "I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me. Come, my beloved, let us go out into the field, let us lodge in the villages." (7:11-12)
The maiden turns her face toward her beloved and says: Come, my beloved, let us leave this place for the open field, and tonight let us lodge in the villages surrounding Jerusalem.
נַשְׁכִּימָה לַכְּרָמִים נִרְאֶה אִם פָּרְחָה הַגֶּפֶן פִּתַּח הַסְּמָדַר הֵנֵצוּ הָרִמּוֹנִים, שָׁם אֶתֵּן אֶת דֹּדַי לָךְ׃ (ז, יג) - "Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine has blossomed, if the grape blossoms have opened, and the pomegranates are in bloom; there I will give you my loves." (7:13)
In the light of morning we will rise early to the vineyards and see if the vine has blossomed. Note the phrasing: it is uncertain whether the vine has blossomed, and uncertain whether the pomegranates have bloomed, yet nevertheless "there I will give you my loves" - I will give you my love. That is to say: the blossoming of the vine and the blooming of the pomegranates may be in doubt, but my love for you has surely blossomed and bloomed, and that love I will give to you and to no other, and certainly not to Shlomo.
הַדּוּדָאִים נָתְנוּ רֵיחַ וְעַל פְּתָחֵינוּ כָּל מְגָדִים חֲדָשִׁים גַּם יְשָׁנִים, דּוֹדִי צָפַנְתִּי לָךְ׃ (ז, יד) - "The mandrakes give off fragrance, and at our doors are all manner of choice fruits, new and old, which I have stored up for you, my beloved." (7:14)
The mandrakes (dudaim) are those plants and flowers gathered for their sweet scent, and they "give off fragrance" - yet their scent is not reserved exclusively for their owner. When someone plants mandrakes, they shed their aroma for everyone; they are like ownerless property in the field, diffusing scent to every passerby. Similarly, "all manner of choice fruits" lie at our doorways; megadim are delicious delicacies prepared for eating, placed at the threshold, ownerless and available to all. "New and old" - even the new delicacies already seem like the old, since we have had our fill of them. Such is the way of the world: at first, everything pleases and excites, but after two or three times one is no longer thrilled by it. But "I have stored up for you, my beloved" - my love I do not offer as something worn out or ownerless; rather, it is reserved for you alone. My love is dedicated only to you.
מִי יִתֶּנְךָ כְּאָח לִי יוֹנֵק שְׁדֵי אִמִּי, אֶמְצָאֲךָ בַחוּץ אֶשָּׁקְךָ גַּם לֹא יָבֻזוּ לִי׃ (ח, א) - "O that you were like a brother to me, nursing at my mother's breasts! Should I find you outside, I would kiss you, and none would despise me." (8:1)
Now the maiden is grieved that she must leave her mother's home and her family to wander with the beloved in the fields and wilderness. She says: If only people regarded you as my brother, nursing at my mother's breasts. For when a man kisses a woman in public - not speaking of distant people, but even among people of Torah - it is perceived as disgraceful and contemptible. Yet a brother kissing his sister, though not entirely customary, is nevertheless understandable and far more accepted, unlike a neighbor's son kissing the neighbor's daughter, which even among children is viewed unfavorably. Therefore she says: If only we had grown up together, nursing from the same mother, so that if I met you outside and kissed you, people would not despise me, nor would it cause disgrace or prompt people to say, "Did you see what they are doing?"
אֶנְהָגְךָ אֲבִיאֲךָ אֶל בֵּית אִמִּי תְּלַמְּדֵנִי, אַשְׁקְךָ מִיַּיִן הָרֶקַח מֵעֲסִיס רִמֹּנִי׃ שְׂמֹאלוֹ תַּחַת רֹאשִׁי וִימִינוֹ תְּחַבְּקֵנִי׃ (ח, ב-ג) - "I would lead you, I would bring you to the house of my mother, who would teach me; I would give you spiced wine to drink, from the juice of my pomegranate. His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me." (8:2-3)
If that were so, I could also lead you and bring you into my mother's house, where you would teach me, and there I would openly give you spiced wine to drink. Then "his left hand is under my head" would be out in the open, and "his right hand embraces me" without shame and without fear of anyone.
הִשְׁבַּעְתִּי אֶתְכֶם בְּנוֹת יְרוּשָׁלִָם, מַה תָּעִירוּ וּמַה תְּעֹרְרוּ אֶת הָאַהֲבָה עַד שֶׁתֶּחְפָּץ׃ (ח, ד) - "I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, why should you stir, and why awaken the love until it pleases?" (8:4)
On the previous occasions, she adjured them "by the gazelles or by the hinds of the field," and said "im ta'iru ve'im te'oreru" - meaning, do not stir and do not awaken. "Do not stir" - do not try to incite this love from the sidelines; and "do not awaken (te'oreru)" - related to "Aru, aru (strip bare, destroy) to its foundation" (Tehillim 137:7), meaning do not spoil the love. In simple terms: do not interfere in the love between me and my beloved. But now she no longer fears them, for she is departing from them completely and is not afraid to reveal her love for her beloved. Therefore, her phrasing changes: "Why should you stir, and why awaken?" - for you possess no power at all to stir or awaken, neither to activate the love nor to undo it; you have no way of doing anything now.
With this, the fifth song is completed, and in fact, the main narrative of Shir HaShirim concludes here. The beloved came to the maiden; the daughters of Jerusalem and Shlomo himself try to convince her that all her beauty, bounty, and pleasures depend on the palace - shoes, jewelry, wine, bread, and a place of honor at the gate of the multitudes - yet she answers that her beloved is uprightness itself and that her love is reserved for him alone, to the point that even her lips murmur of him in her sleep. In the end, she goes out to him and no longer fears the daughters of Jerusalem: "Why should you stir, and why awaken?" This is the happy ending of the mashal - the lovers are united, and the taking of the shepherd maiden by Shlomo has reached its end. From here onward begins the Song of the Thousand, whose theme we will explain when we reach it, and now we turn to the nimshal.