Introduction to the Songs of the Soul

The treasure of treasures and the delight of all that is precious, the choicest of all choice things and the most precious of all that is holy—such is this sacred song for us. From the days when the mighty prince of the wise, upon whom rested the Spirit of Hashem, first understood it, until this very day, the holy sages of old have called it the Holy of Holies. They likened it to purest fine flour. They named it the chief and crown of all songs, the glory and splendor of the Writings, the delight of eternal ages and the beauty of all testimonies, the stronghold of wisdom and understanding, the storehouse of knowledge and insight, the dwelling place of light and radiance, the tent of brightness and illumination. “There was never a day,” as our faithful Sages said, “like the day on which the Song of Songs was given to Israel.”

Yet what is the secret of this song, and concerning what and whom was its allegory spoken? Who are its prophets, and of what did they prophesy? Concerning whom were these words and visions spoken, so exceedingly wondrous? What is its foundation, and upon what were its pillars established? Who is she that comes up from the wilderness, and who is her beloved who has slipped away and passed on? Who is the beloved, the youthful one, who put his hand through the opening? And who is his companion, wrapped as one veiled, whose breasts are like twin gazelles? She who is perfumed with myrrh and frankincense—and who is her little sister? Who is this gazelle and young stag, this cluster of henna blossoms, who lodges between the breasts and rests at noon; this bundle of myrrh and apple tree, who peers forth and watches, whose locks are curled, whose hands are cylinders of gold, whose legs are like pillars? And who are the foxes that spoil the vineyards? Who, then, is the shepherd among the lilies, whose eyes are like doves, whose legs are like pillars, who is altogether lovely, distinguished among ten thousand, and whose banner over me is love; the beloved upon the mountains of separation? And who is his dove in the hiding place? She who is dark yet beautiful, who is sick with love, pure as the sun and awesome as bannered hosts; whose lips drip honey, whose teeth are like a flock of goats, whose eyes are like pools in Heshbon, and whose footsteps are beautiful in sandals? And who is the king at his banquet, with maidens and daughters around him, queens and concubines, and the fairest among women; Solomon and Shulammith, the dance of Mahanaim, the bride, Lebanon, and the daughters of Jerusalem? Who are the lovers and the kissers, the companions and the shepherds, the beloveds and the friends; the city and the watchmen; the vineyard of Baal-hamon and its keepers; the couch and its sixty warriors? And what are the palanquin and its pillars, the garden and its precious fruits, the palm tree and its clusters, the fountain of gardens and the orchard of pomegranates, the mandrakes and the vines, the raisin-cakes and the apples, the lily of the valleys dwelling among the thorns? All these are hidden riddles and sealed mysteries, exalted wisdom and concealed wonders. The sages of old plowed with its heifer yet did not discover its riddle, and the scholars of later generations despoiled its soil yet carried away none of its sheaves. Thus the book has been handed to one who can read, saying, “Please read this,” and he replies, “I cannot, for it is sealed.” It is a riddle, and it has remained a riddle.

The garment with which this song clothes itself when it reveals itself to the eyes of its readers is a love song, which, according to the commentators, was composed either concerning King Solomon and his beloved, or concerning a shepherd and his companion. It is filled with expressions of love and desire that possess no apparent order, and with numerous metaphors that are difficult to understand. Most of these metaphors and comparisons have exhausted the commentators, who have struggled to set them properly into the golden settings of the plain meaning in all their details. They therefore sought to make the crooked straight and declared: “It is merely an allegory.”

But who is the exalted one who wraps himself in this splendid mantle? And who are these wondrous lovers and hidden companions who clothe themselves in these garments and appear adorned with every ornament? The allegorists say that the beloved is the Congregation of Israel, and the lover is her exalted Beloved, her God, who betrothed her to Himself in Egypt in her youth. There the time of love first arrived; there He remembered the love of her bridal days. In the wilderness, a barren land, the maiden adorned herself with her ornaments and bound on the adornments of a bride. He came from myriads of holy ones, and her two breasts were like two fawns. In the beautiful land He spread His wings over her, and in the eternal Temple she came with Him from Lebanon as a bride, while the fragrance of her garments was like the fragrance of Lebanon. Until she became like a wife who betrays her companion, and He sent her away from His house because of her transgressions. Yet, concerning a wife of one’s youth who has been rejected, her God says: “I will take her back.” Her Beloved is like a gazelle, standing behind her wall, and He will yet return to rejoice over her for good, just as He rejoiced over her fathers. This path was paved by the sages of the Midrash in their teachings, and most commentators followed in their footsteps. Only in explaining the details of the verses and the flow of the discourse did their paths diverge, each following the way that seemed best in his own eyes. The philosophers, however, removed the turban of allegory and lifted away the crown. They fashioned form without substance, suspended lofty mountains upon a hair, and wove into this song all the wisdom of nature and the celestial spheres, spiderwebs together with the tapestry. They bent the verses wherever the spirit of philosophy desired to go, leaving behind only a stump, like an oak or terebinth after its leaves have fallen. In the end, most interpretations and explanations dwell in remote caverns in the farthest north, hidden away in forests. They remain confined within the realm of allegory and homiletics, far removed from the city of the plain meaning, lacking firm grounding in the text itself, though refined in the artistry of interpretation. Yet although we know that the word of God has seventy faces and a thousand dimensions, nevertheless the plain meaning is the beginning of knowledge. It is the key by which the gates are opened before we enter the inner chambers of holiness and the palaces of the King. Therefore, I have set out to teach you understanding. Incline your ear and listen. Behold, I will open for you a new gate, through which your soul will see light and find rest, for sweet is the light, and it is good for the eyes to behold the sun.

My thoughts are not the thoughts of the commentators in their external understanding of this allegory, nor are my ways their ways in explaining its inner meaning. It is not King Solomon alone who is the lover, the companion, and the beloved; nor is it merely a shepherd tending sheep in the wilderness who is the object of desire and devotion. Neither was the song composed solely concerning the community of Israel, according to the customary explanations of its allegory, nor does it concern the operations of nature and the physical world. The allegory recounts the experiences of Solomon while he was still alive: his many wives and the maiden who loved another and rejected his love. The figurative meaning, however, reveals the power of his hand through the spirit of prophecy, at the time when he cast off his filthy garments and his soul cleaved to the living God. The allegory and the figurative meaning shall be perfect together; they shall conceive and give birth as twins from a single mother’s womb. “Behold, we were binding sheaves in the field, and behold, my sheaf arose and stood upright.” I shall heal the estrangement of the Scriptures and love them freely. “His banner over me is love.” And now I shall explain my discourse. “I will incline my ear to a parable; I will open my riddle upon the harp.” Then your sheaves shall gather around and bow down to my sheaf.

The allegory relates that among the multitude of women—queens and concubines—to whom Solomon was attached in love, his soul became enamored of a noble maiden, a graceful doe of love, a young woman like Keziah and Jemimah, pure as the sun, perfectly beautiful, without equal upon the earth. She was a shepherdess tending the flocks of her mother's household. Yet she was silent like Rachel before her shearers, for within her bones burned a confined fire, the blazing flames of love—a mighty flame—for a hidden youth, an unnamed one, a fair and ruddy shepherd, beautiful of eyes and swift of gait, youthful as the cedars, wise in hidden things, tending sheep and goats among the mountains in the remote countryside. Day after day he hastened like an eagle through the heavens from the wilderness where he dwelt to the chambers of Solomon, the abode of his sorrowful beloved, renewing with her continually the covenant of their love. He called her “my dove, my perfect one,” while he was called “my beloved” and “my companion” by his bride. Although the king appointed guards over her—the daughters of Jerusalem watching her, sixty warriors surrounding his couch—nevertheless locks of iron and bronze could not restrain the flames of love. Walls, bars, and doors could not separate the lovers, for the beloved continually returned to speak with her through openings in the doorposts and doors. She too would go out after him into the wilderness and rest with him among the sheepfolds. Whenever she went out, the daughters of Zion, her keepers, would pursue her and surround her in the dance of Mahanaim. Stretching out her hands toward them, she would say: “I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, do not awaken or stir up love.” Better for me is a crust of dry bread with him in a wilderness, a dry and desolate land, than palaces of pleasure in which I have found no good; even spiced wine there is mingled with sorrow. At the end of days, the gazelle-like beloved came from the mountains of spices. Rays shone forth from his hand upon her, the mandrakes of love blossomed, and the flames of their love prevailed. The prisoners of hope were set free, they fled into the wilderness, and the company of singers broke forth in song: “Love is strong as death, and its jealousy is mighty as Sheol; its flashes are flashes of fire, a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench the flame, nor can rivers and the great depths extinguish it.” The crossings were cleared, the skies became pure, the shadows passed away, companions were reunited, joy and gladness girded themselves, they looked and were radiant, a crown was placed upon the beloved, the musicians played, and the singers sang:

Preface

The sages of philosophy and the masters of wisdom often compare the body, together with its many distinguished powers—both active and passive—to a great royal city and its inhabitants, or to a small city and its people. For just as a city contains many different individuals, multitudes upon multitudes, each encamped under his own banner and engaged in separate occupations directed toward distinct personal ends, so too the body possesses many powers and faculties, arranged like ordered flocks, each stationed in its own place, built according to its own nature, performing its own function, and directed toward its particular purpose. And just as all the inhabitants of a city, young and old alike, participate in a common government and unite under a single ruling authority, under one religion, one body of laws, and righteous judgments, all strengthening and occupying themselves—each under his banner and in his division, each at his labor and bearing his burden—to preserve the peace and stability of the city so that its habitation not be destroyed; and among them are leaders and officials, judges and officers, commanders and instructors, together with the common people, children and adults, old men and youths, vintners and farmers, those who govern and those who submit, those who give warnings and those who heed them—so too all the powers and faculties of the body, its attributes, dispositions, and divisions, unite for the general governance of the living being. They are bound together and not separated, all laboring in their work like the citizens of a kingdom, to maintain the well-being and order of the body and its affairs, its life, health, and nourishment, so that it may send forth its roots and flourish in freshness. All of them operate under a single comprehensive natural law, which permeates all their powers, sustaining the living creature and its body throughout all the days of its existence upon the earth until the time of its departure. Among these faculties are principal powers that stand in positions of authority, and lesser powers that have been assigned to serve them as subordinates. This matter is explained and arranged at length in the writings of the philosophers.

But when we examine with a discerning eye all the powers of the body and contemplate them with understanding, we see that all of them stand with it and perish with it. They were born together with the flesh, and at death they do not separate from it. All of them came from the dust, and to their dust they return. Matter was their substance, and from it they sprang forth. They are its disciples, the members of its household, the companions of its covenant, running to fulfill its desires. This is the entire fruit of their labor throughout all the days of their existence upon the earth: to satisfy the will of the body, its pleasures and its longings, its cravings and its benefits. They are the citizens of the city and its builders; they are its inhabitants from within, its farmers and tillers of the soil. For Hashem, the God of wisdom, has declared that they are all a foolish people. They conceive iniquity and bring forth vanity; they are pregnant with emptiness and give birth to sorrow. The cord and the fetter, the burden and the load, the curse of Ebal—this is their portion in the world.

One alone is different. Like the appearance of flaming torches she moves about. She is a king’s daughter, and she reigns. She is the eagle that gives life to the lifeless bodies, the fiery torch that passes between the pieces. From that well the flocks draw water. She is the beautiful dove, appearing like the dawn, whose glory as a king’s daughter is within, pure as the sun. She is the beloved, she is the bride, enduring forever. She is the living and rational being, distinguished from all creatures of flesh. Behind the door and the doorpost she keeps her remembrance, in the strength of her concealment, of her Beloved who dwells upon the mountains of spices. For she is the soul of the Almighty from on high. He is her Beloved, and to Him she cleaves. He is her companion, and upon Him she leans. In the evening she comes, and in the morning she returns, to the God whom she loves. She will make no covenant with the inhabitants of the land, nor show them favor; and when they call to her, she will not answer them. And when He in whose hand is the life of every living thing says, “Divide the living child,” she declares, “No! Your son is the dead one, and my son is the living one.” For her Redeemer lives, and He will restore her to the house appointed for all living. Yet she remains hidden from the eyes of every living creature. And now I will go before you and make the crooked places straight. I will open gates before you and give you treasures of darkness and hidden riches of secret places. Behold, a hand is stretched out to me, and in it is a scroll of a book, written on both front and back. I eat it, and it becomes in my mouth as sweet as honey. Open your mouth and eat what I give you. If you find honey, eat only what is sufficient for you, for honey and the honeycomb are sweet to your taste.

Introduction to the Treatise

Every human being, simply by virtue of being human, has his life and activities divided into two principal directions, corresponding to the two components from which he is composed. (1) The first turns toward the house of vanity. This is the life of the body and its material activities. As one born of the earth, his heart inclines toward temporal success: to gather wealth and possessions, to seek honor and position, and to love worldly delights and bodily pleasures. (2) The second turns toward the highway ascending to the house of God. This is the life of the soul and its spiritual activities. As one born of heaven, its aim is directed toward spiritual blessedness: to acquire wisdom and knowledge, to seek the fear of Hashem and humble righteousness, to love Hashem and cleave to Him. It despises the vanities of time, sanctifies itself from the impurities of the body, and seeks to walk among the eternal beings who stand before God. Even when the material powers, its neighbors, entice or overpower it into making a covenant with them, causing it to guard their vineyards or to sleep in the bosom of sloth in a deep sleep, nevertheless it still sleeps while its heart remains awake. From time to time it stirs itself to shake off the dust, rouses itself again and again, and opens its intellectual eyes to see that a cloud is its garment and to know that thick darkness is its swaddling cloth.

However, these two directions—namely, the two modes of life through which a person walks upon the earth—were manifested with exceptional force and clarity in the life of King Solomon, peace be upon him. For (1) in the life of the body, he attained the desires of the world and the pleasures of time more than any other human being, as he explained at length in the Book of Ecclesiastes. (2) In the life of the soul, he merited Divine visions. The Spirit rested upon him, and God spoke with him through dreams and visions. At such times, in accordance with the conditions of prophecy, the physical faculties were restrained, the powers of matter ceased their activity, and the pillars of the body were weakened. His Divine soul would then separate itself from its association with matter, cast off its soiled garments, and remain alone, cleaving to the Supreme Intellect, which is not bound by physical existence—this being her Beloved and her Companion. After composing the Book of Ecclesiastes, in which he established a refining furnace for the life of the body and a crucible for its vanities, showing that they are altogether vanity, he composed this holy song, in which he spoke glorious things concerning the life of the soul when the Spirit rests upon it and it cleaves to its exalted Beloved, distinguished among ten thousand. Through it he taught the people knowledge, wisdom, and instruction, making known this mystery and its meaning, and illuminating souls that dwell in darkness. He clothed his words in allegory and poetic imagery, in the manner of the sayings of the wise and their riddles.

In his allegory, he compares the House of Solomon—that is, his body and the host of its faculties—to a great royal city, which the poet designates by the names Zion and Jerusalem. (He employed this same metaphor in the Book of Ecclesiastes: “A little city, and few men within it,” concerning which the Sages said, “The little city is the body, and the few men are its limbs.”) The appetitive faculty, or impulse, which rules within the body and to which all the bodily powers submit in carrying out its commands, he designates by the name King Solomon, for it governs this city—that is, Solomon’s body—and exercises over it a mighty kingship and extensive dominion, just as Solomon reigned over Jerusalem. (Likewise, concerning the verse, “And there came against it a great king and surrounded it,” the Sages explained: “The great king is the evil inclination.”) He also designates the various psychic faculties that are bound to matter by the names “the daughters of Zion” or “the daughters of Jerusalem,” for they are the daughters of the city. These faculties of the body are Solomon’s wives and concubines, fulfilling his desires and passions and satisfying every delight in women. They are his maidservants and handmaids, from whom he takes those needed to be perfumers, cooks, and bakers through the nutritive, developmental, reproductive, and other bodily powers, each according to its assigned function.

“And he took up his allegory and said”

For among the multitude of women belonging to Solomon, his soul became attached to one companion, the fairest among women. She was betrothed to a shepherd who tended his flock in the wilderness. This beloved was taken from the embrace of her shepherd-lover and brought to King Solomon, into his royal palace. He placed a royal crown upon her head and bestowed upon her gifts worthy of a king. He also appointed over her guardians—the daughters of Jerusalem—who surrounded her. They kept watch over her every step lest she flee to the wilderness to her beloved. But the vigilance of the guards was in vain, for her heart was not seduced by any of Solomon’s attractions. Her soul recoiled from his love. She rejected the king’s delicacies and the wine of his banquets, for her soul longed and yearned only for the beloved of her youth, the shepherd among the lilies. He too remembered the love of their bridal days, and every day he would walk before the court of the women's palace where his bride was confined, peering through the windows and speaking with her through the walls and latticework. She would pour out her heart before him, pleading that he bring her soul out of its prison. They devised signs between themselves; he gave her signals showing how she might escape and where she would find him upon the mountains of separation. Several times she fled from the king’s palace to the wilderness where he dwelt, but each time the daughters of Jerusalem, her guardians, pursued her and angrily returned her to Solomon’s chambers. At last, in the end of days, she girded her loins with strength, shattered the bronze doors, cut apart the bars, opened the chains, broke the bonds, and went forth openly, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, to her beloved, the gazelle upon the mountains of spices.

This is the substance of the allegory, and these are the riddles contained within it. And this is its interpretation.

The fairest among women, with whom Solomon became enamored and whom he brought into the royal palaces, is his spiritual, Divine soul, which descended from the heights above to dwell within Solomon’s earthly house, for “Hashem has said that He would dwell in thick darkness.” The shepherd-beloved to whom she was betrothed is her exalted Beloved, the Shepherd of the heavenly hosts, who sits in the highest heavens of old and dwells in the celestial realms. The king who confined her within his palace and sought to entice her to his love represents the appetitive faculty that rules within the body. It exerted itself to gain dominion over the spirit, imprisoning the holy soul within a covenant of love among the fleshly powers. It strove to draw the Divine soul, together with her maiden companions (the intellectual faculties of the soul), after its own desires, seeking to keep the queen with him in the palace as a consort and attendant to fulfill his passions and cravings, whether in governing the kingdom or in acquiring wealth, riches, and every desire of Solomon. The daughters of Jerusalem whom he stationed around her as guards represent the bodily faculties, which surrounded her and held her fast so that she would not free herself from materiality, cast off the sandals of matter from her feet, or spread her wings to soar on the wings of purity and holiness into the spiritual realm to her Beloved in heaven. The allegory’s description of the beloved longing for the shepherd, the companion of her youth, adorned like a bridegroom in splendor and like a bride in her ornaments, signifies that Solomon’s soul despised the desires and ambitions of matter and refused to defile itself by pursuing the ruler within the body—the appetitive faculty and its passions. Rather, it continually awakened with intense longing for Hashem, her Beloved, who is her portion and her cup, and strengthened itself through contemplation and action to walk in His ways and cleave to Him. The allegory’s statement that her Beloved sent messages to her through the wall and door, through windows and latticework, signifies that the heavenly Beloved also longed for her, desiring to pour His holy spirit upon her and instruct her in His truth. He sent the words of His Providence through the wall of matter, which stood as a screen between her and the Holy of Holies, gazing upon her through the windows and openings of the soul in order to raise her from the depths of the pit and the wells of clay to holiness and Divine inspiration, and to bring her from the Valley of Trouble to the Door of Hope. The allegory’s account that she fled several times from the king’s palace to her Beloved in the wilderness signifies that through the striving, longing, and preparation of Solomon’s soul for Divine communion, the Spirit rested upon him and he attained prophecy and the word of God on numerous occasions. At those times she fled from Solomon’s palace—that is, she stripped herself of materiality, the cloud and darkness were removed from her, and she withdrew from the love of the king, meaning that the shadows fled away and the darkness of the appetitive faculty vanished, leaving her alone with the great light and the radiant glory of her Beloved shining upon her. The allegory’s statement that the daughters of Jerusalem pursued her each time and brought her back to the king’s palace signifies that the bonds of the body had not yet been completely dissolved. Therefore this union did not endure for long, for after the Divine spirit had rested upon him, the powers of matter would once again awaken and interrupt the communion. Then Hashem departed when He had finished speaking to Solomon, and his soul returned to its place, imprisoned once more within the confines of matter as before. Finally, the allegory’s statement that at the end of days she departed openly from Solomon’s house, never to return, but instead cleaved to her Beloved and became betrothed to Him forever, signifies that when Solomon was gathered to his people and lay down with his fathers, the bonds were loosened and the fetters dissolved. The snare was broken, and his soul escaped to her God, the Beloved of her youth. Then “the dust returned to the earth as it was, and the spirit returned to God who gave it,” and she was bound in the bundle of life, in everlasting and eternal bliss.

When we analyzed this holy song according to its divisions and passed between its sections, we found that it is divided into five parts, or five songs. In each song it recounts how the beloved fled from the king's chambers to the wilderness, so that we find she fled to the wilderness five times. In the first four instances it relates that she was brought back from the wilderness to the king's palace, but in the fifth instance it tells how she went out to the wilderness and remained there with her beloved, never returning again. The figurative meaning is this: we find that Hashem appeared to Solomon and spoke with him four times, as will be explained. Therefore, the allegory portrays the beloved—his Divine soul—as separating itself from matter and departing four times. After each Divine communication and vision, it returned to matter and was once again confined within it as before. The fifth time, however, at the moment of death and separation, his soul departed from his body forever and returned to her Father's house as in her youth.

The first song begins with “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth” (1:2) and concludes with “I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you not awaken or arouse love” (2:7). In it, the beloved yearns for her lover while he stands behind her wall. She asks him to show her his dwelling place and where she may find him. Then she flees and goes out into the wilderness, where she is reunited with her beloved, and his banner over her is love; his left hand is beneath her head and his right hand embraces her. But when she sees that the daughters of Jerusalem are pursuing her, she begs them not to interrupt or awaken their love. Thus the union between them is broken, and they are separated from one another. This is an allegory for the first vision (recorded in 1 Kings 3 and 2 Chronicles 1), when the king went to Gibeon and offered a thousand burnt offerings there. Hashem appeared to him in a dream by night and said, “Ask what I shall give you.” Solomon requested an understanding heart to judge the people and discern between good and evil, and Hashem granted his request. Accordingly, Malbim depicts Solomon's soul as longing for her Beloved. She came to His house through burnt offerings and sought to know His ways, His judgments, and the wisdom of God. She merited a wondrous union through a prophetic vision, during which she stripped herself of physicality and cleaved to her Beloved. But then the daughters of Jerusalem—the powers of the body—interrupted her. They regained their strength, Solomon awoke, and his soul returned to its prison-house as before.

The second song begins with “The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes” (2:8) and concludes with “Until the day breathes and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be like a gazelle” (at the end of the chapter). In it, the beloved himself is stirred to come to his companion. He calls to her to come out after him, but she remains hidden in the secret places of the cliff, concealed and confined. Their conversation does not continue for long; soon afterward he departs from her. This is an allegory for the second Divine communication (recorded in 1 Kings 6:11), when Solomon had begun building the Temple and God said to him: “Concerning this house which you are building, if you walk in My statutes...” It is evident that this was not a complete prophetic vision, for Scripture says, “And the word of Hashem came to Solomon,” which indicates a lesser degree of revelation, since there was no vision or prophetic spectacle. Therefore, in 1 Kings 9 it says, “Hashem appeared to Solomon a second time, as He had appeared to him at Gibeon,” and this earlier communication is not counted as one of those appearances. Likewise, it is not counted in Chronicles. For this reason, the allegory does not describe the daughters of Jerusalem pursuing her, since the lovers separated of their own accord. She went out only for a brief time, “until the day breathes and the shadows flee away,” and then her beloved departed from her on his own. As will be explained in detail later.

The third song begins with “Upon my bed at night” (3:1) and concludes with “I have come into my garden” (5:1). It relates how the beloved sought her lover upon her bed at night and throughout the city, yet could not find him until she went out from the city and found her beloved. She then brought him into her mother's house, until the daughters of Jerusalem pursued her. There the song recounts how she fled from Solomon's couch, how she was alone with her beloved, and how he spoke to her in every language of affection. All this is an allegory for the third Divine communication (recorded in 1 Kings 9 and 2 Chronicles 7), after the Temple had been completed and dedicated. At that time Solomon multiplied prayers, supplications, and sacrifices beyond number, as described there at length. This corresponds to the allegory in which the beloved sought her lover with all her strength. Then Hashem appeared to Solomon in a complete vision, as Scripture says, “as He had appeared to him at Gibeon.” This signifies that Solomon's soul separated itself from matter and cleaved to her Beloved in prophetic union. She also brought Him into her mother's house through the Temple that he had built, as I shall explain, God willing, in the commentary itself. Eventually, however, the daughters of matter interrupted the union, and his soul returned to his body as before. There the song also speaks of the palanquin, which represents the Holy Temple that he built, and contains marvelous matters connected with this prophetic vision, as will be explained in the body of the work.

The fourth song begins with “I was asleep” (5:2) and concludes with “This is my beloved and this is my friend” (at the end of the chapter). It relates how the beloved slumbered for many days in Solomon's chambers and forgot her beloved, the companion of her youth. Then one night he came and knocked at her door. At first she was unwilling to rise from her bed and open to him, and when she finally arose to open the door, her beloved had already withdrawn and passed away, and she could no longer find him. She then revealed her sorrow to the daughters of Jerusalem and told them that she was sick with love. She described to them the character of her beloved, his virtues, and his perfections. This is an allegory for what is written in 1 Kings 11, where Solomon afterward sinned, took foreign wives, and turned his heart away from Hashem who had appeared to him twice. There Hashem said to Solomon, “Because this has been your conduct and you have not kept My covenant... I will surely tear the kingdom from your hand.” Scripture also says, “Hashem was angry with Solomon.” This portrays Solomon's soul as having fallen asleep in the embrace of the body and become drawn after its desires. Then Hashem came and knocked at her door, making known to her her sin and its punishment. At that point she took her condition to heart and sought her beloved, desiring to repent and once again attain the Divine light and communion she had known before. But her beloved had withdrawn and passed away. Hashem distanced Himself from him, and his soul no longer separated itself from matter to ascend into the spiritual realm until the time appointed for its final departure. Then the daughters of Jerusalem—that is, the powers of his body—found her beloved, who had come to gather his soul back to the source of life, and they informed him that she was sick with love.

The fifth song begins with “Where has your beloved gone?” (6:1) and concludes with “Many waters cannot quench love” (8:7). It relates how the beloved came to his bride, and her soul clung after him. She went out with him into the wilderness openly and triumphantly, and neither the daughters of Jerusalem nor King Solomon himself could restrain them, for “love is strong as death.” Thus she said to the daughters: “Why should you awaken or arouse love?” (8:4), meaning: you can no longer interrupt or extinguish this love. This portrays the time when the heavenly Beloved came to gather Solomon's soul into the bundle of life. Then death separated her from the body, and she returned to her God. The powers of matter could no longer disturb her, for she would abide in the shadow of the Almighty. In this section there appear wondrous teachings concerning the soul at the moment of death and after death, as will be explained in the commentary itself, God willing.

To this scroll there is added a small song, beginning with “We have a little sister” and continuing to the end of the book. It is the speech of the soul and its supplication on behalf of the vital spirit bound to the body, on behalf of the other psychic faculties attached to matter, and on behalf of the body itself, which is likewise destined to receive the reward of its deeds at the resurrection. He presents this through an allegory, as though the beloved were pleading for her little sister who has no breasts, as will be explained in its place. This song is called “The Song of the Thousand,” because it speaks of Solomon’s vineyard, whose fruit yielded a thousand pieces of silver. Concerning this Scripture says: “And his songs were a thousand and five” (1 Kings 5:12). That is, the song he composed consists of five songs, and in addition to them there is the Song of the Thousand.

Now that the measuring line has gone forth and completed the measurements of the inner house, and has gone out through the gate that faces east and measured five cubits with the measuring reed round about, before I enter the inner court and the sanctuary within, I pray to You, O Hashem: Send forth Your light and Your truth; let them lead me and bring me to Your holy mountain and to Your dwelling places. Cast me not away from before You, and take not Your Holy Spirit from me.