Welcome to a new deep dive. We take fascinating
sources, pull out the key knowledge, and hopefully
have a bit of fun doing it. That's the plan.
So today we're getting into something really
timeless, ancient love poetry. Specifically excerpts
from the Song of Songs, Beauty, Love, and Search.
Exactly. And look, this is ancient writing found
within religious texts, but our focus today It's
really on the human side, the desire, the connection
you find in there. Right, the raw emotion, our
mission, let's say, is to sort of unpack the
big themes, how beauty is described, the feelings
of... Love, longing. And that search for intimacy.
We want to give you the listener a real glimpse
into the, well, the passionate world inside these
verses. And what's so great about these texts
is just how personal they feel. Even now, despite
the, you know, the historical distance, we're
looking at the artistry, the humanity of it all.
Okay, so let's dive in. We're better to start
than how the lover describes the beloved. The
descriptions of beauty are Well, there's something
else. They really are. The comparisons are so
vivid, sometimes unexpected. Like that first
one, your eyes are doves behind your veil. Hmm.
Straight away you get this feeling, maybe gentleness,
serenity, something beautiful but partly hidden.
Yeah, behind the veil, intriguing. And then your
hair is like a flock of goats streaming down
Mount Gilead. Which to us sounds... Odd, maybe.
A little bit. But you have to picture it, right?
A dark, flowing mass pouring down a hillside.
Long, dark hair was a huge deal then. Vitality,
beauty. Ah, okay. That clicks. It's about their
context, their symbols. Exactly. And then your
teeth are like a flock of youths coming up from
washing. Big with twins, none barren. Huh, yeah.
Not your typical chat -up line today. Definitely
not. But unpack it. Coming up from washing, that
suggests what? Purity maybe cleanliness and big
with twins nun Baron while that screams abundance
health fertility in a farming society That's
like the ultimate symbol of prosperity life itself
Wow, so these aren't just surface compliments.
They're deep. They're rooted in their world precisely
and it continues lips like a scarlet strand vivid
color the mouth lovely and the cheeks Like pomegranate
halves behind your veil again with the veil a
hint of something rich red sweet Maybe just glimpsed.
It's quite tantalizing. It really is. Then it
moves to imagery of strength, adornment. Your
neck is like the Tower of David. Guilt in courses,
a thousand shields hanging upon it. All the armor
of warriors. That's such a powerful image, isn't
it? It really is. The neck is the strong central
thing. Adorned, yes, but also protected. Regal
almost. Strong. It makes you think about what
that society valued in beauty. Strength alongside
grace. Yes, it blends those ideas. But then almost
immediately the tone shifts again. Your breasts
are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle feeding
among the lilies. Oh, that's completely different.
So tender, natural, delicate, peaceful. Right.
It shows the range of admiration. And then cutting
through all the comparisons, this incredibly
direct line, you are beautiful in every way,
my friend. There is no flaw in you. It's just
total admiration. No holding back. Total. And
it leads right into this urgent plea, this invitation.
With me from Lebanon, my bride. Descend from
the peak of Ammanah, from the peak of Sinir and
Hermon. These places sound quite grand, exotic,
maybe even a bit dangerous. Lebanon, Hermon.
They could be. Mentioning specific, possibly
remote or challenging locations really ramps
up the intensity. It says, I want you with me
no matter where. It speaks volumes about the
depth of that desire. A longing that crosses
boundaries. Absolutely. And then the impact she
has. You have ravished my heart with one glance
of your eyes, with one bead of your necklace.
Wow. Just one glance, one tiny detail. It shows
how completely captivated the speaker is, overwhelmed,
you know, that feeling when someone just floors
you. Yeah. And love itself is valued above everything.
How much better is your love than wine? And the
fragrance of your perfumes than any spice. Love
is the peak sensory experience. Better than the
best wine, the most exotic spices. It really
elevates it. And notice how sensory it all is.
It keeps coming back to sight, smell, taste,
like the end of that section. Your lips drip,
honey. Honey and milk are under your tongue.
And the fragrance of your garments is like the
fragrance of Lebanon. It's immersive, a full
body appreciation. Total sensory immersion in
the beloved's presence. Okay, so from that very
direct outward admiration, the palm shifts, it
moves to this powerful metaphor, the enclosed
garden. Yes, a garden enclosed, my sister my
bride, a garden enclosed, a fountain sealed,
very evocative language. It sounds private protected.
What are the potential meanings there? Well,
enclosed definitely suggests privacy, intimacy,
something precious, maybe untouched, reserved.
The sealed fountain reinforces that. So maybe
her virtue, or the specialness of their bond.
Could be. Purity, intimacy, the sacredness of
their love. Plus, you know, in that part of the
world, gardens were often seen as little pockets
of paradise. Sacred spaces almost adds another
layer. That's fascinating. This garden isn't
empty, is it? It's filled with, wow, listen to
this list. Pomegranates, henna. Spikenard, Saffron,
Sweet Cane, Cinnamon, Frankincense, Murr, Allows.
It's an explosion of fragrance all contained
in this private space. Right. Each one with its
own scent, its own possible symbolism. It creates
this incredibly rich alluring atmosphere within
the garden. It represents her, the beloved, desirable,
beautiful. And then there's this call to the
winds. Awake, North Wind, come South Wind, blow
upon my garden. Why? Why release the fragrance?
That its perfumes may spread abroad. It's an
interesting moment. It seems like a desire for
this inner beauty to be experienced, maybe just
by the lover. Like an invitation? Perhaps. The
winds carry the garden's essence outward, and
it links directly to the lover's own wish. Let
my lover come to his garden and eat its fruits
of choices yield. A clear invitation to share,
to be intimate. Definitely. And the response
is just as lovely. I have come to my garden,
my sister, my bride. I gather my myrrh with my
spices. I eat my honeycomb with my honey. I drink
my wine with my milk. It's acceptance, union,
neutral enjoyment. A beautiful image of shared
intimacy the lover is welcomed in. And then that
line, eat friends, drink, drink deeply lovers.
What's that about? A communal thing. It's debated,
but yeah, it could suggest a wider celebration,
like the community acknowledges and rejoices
in their love, or maybe it's just an expression
of overflowing joy. But just as we get this image
of blissful union, the mood shifts again, doesn't
it? It does. Suddenly. I was sleeping, but my
heart was awake, the sound of my lover knocking.
Ah, so trouble and paradise? Yeah. Or at least
disruption? Longing enters the picture. Exactly.
Even asleep, she's attuned to him. The knocking
breaks that idyllic feeling it forces a choice.
Pulls her out of that peaceful state. And she
hesitates. We hear her thoughts. I have taken
off my robe. Am I then to put it on? I have bathed
my feet. Am I then to soil them? It's such a
human moment, isn't it? Relatable. That inertia.
Comfort versus desire. Maybe vulnerability too.
Not wanting to be caught unprepared. Right. That
pause. It costs her. It does. The very next lines
are heartbreaking. My lover put his hand in through
the opening. My innermost being trembled because
of him. That physical closeness, even just a
hand. It affects her deeply. Deeply. I rose to
open for my lover, but my lover had turned and
gone. At his leaving, my soul sank. Oh, that
immediate regret. Missed connection. It's crushing.
That sharp pain, yeah. And her reaction is instant,
intense. I saw him, but I did not find him. I
called out after him, but he did not answer me.
Just pure panic and desperation, the agony of
him being gone. Do you feel her frantic energy?
And then things get worse. She encounters the
Watchmen. Right. The Watchmen found me. They
beat me. They wounded me. They tore off my mantle.
That's quite shocking. It is. It's harsh. Why?
Well, maybe searching alone at night was scandalous,
or perhaps it symbolizes the dangers, the vulnerability
you face when you're desperately seeking love
out in the world. It's open to interpretation.
A painful consequence, either way. And it leads
her to make this plea. To the daughters of Jerusalem,
yeah. I adjure you. If you find my lover, what
shall you tell him that I am sick with love?
Just laying a bear. The physical toll of his
absence. Love sickness. It's raw. And this intense
plea makes the daughters ask, basically, what's
so special about him? How does your lover differ
from any other lover most beautiful among women?
How does your lover differ that you would juror
us so? Fair question. It is. And her answer,
it's this incredible detail, almost idealized
portrait of him. She starts right off. My lover
is radiant and ready. Outstanding among thousands
sets him apart immediately. Exceptional. Not
just handsome, but outstanding. Then, his head
is gold. Pure gold. His hair like palm fronds.
As black as a raven. Richness, preciousness,
contrasted with that dark, vibrant hair. It's
striking imagery. And his eyes. Like doves beside
streams of water, bathing in milk, sitting by
brimming pools. That sounds so peaceful. Pure.
Yeah. Abundant. Like a perfect little scene in
his gaze. It's layered, isn't it? Doves for gentleness,
water, milk, pools, all suggesting purity, life,
nourishment. Then his cheeks, like beds of spices
yielding aromatic scents. His lips are lilies
that drip flowing myrrh. Again, the scents is
fragrant, beautiful, sensuous. It's not just
how he looks, but how he smells, tastes almost.
Exactly. And then his body, his arms are rods
of gold adorned with gems, his loins, a work
of ivory covered with sapphires. Wow, gold, gems,
ivory, sapphires. It's like she's describing
treasure. A priceless artwork. The value she
places on him is immense than his legs. Pillars
of alabaster resting on golden pedestals. Stable.
His appearance like the Lebanon imposing as the
cedars. Majestic solid almost awe -inspiring
like nature's grandeur. It's such a powerful
build up as she finishes with his mouth his sweetness
itself. He's delightful in every way. A complete
picture total adoration and seals it with Such
is my lover and such my friend daughters of Jerusalem.
It's like, this is why this is who I'm searching
for. It really justifies her desperate search,
doesn't it? It's this perfect image she holds,
maybe especially potent because he's absent.
It shows how deeply cherished he is. So wrapping
up this deep dive, we've journeyed through some
really intense territory, vivid descriptions
of beauty. Passionate expressions of love, that
ache of desire. The pain when they're separated.
And then this incredible, idealized picture of
the lost lover. It's amazing how these ancient
words still feel. Well. Relevant they capture
so much about human connection. It's complexities.
It really is fascinating how these core emotions
Admiring someone longing for them needing that
connection how they just resonate across thousands
of years different culture different time, but
the feelings So recognizable absolutely it really
makes you think doesn't yeah as you listen to
this what parts of the beauty the love the longing
in these old verses strike a chord with you today.
Yeah, how do these timeless feelings still play
out in our own lives and how we connect with
people? Something to reflect on. That enduring
power of expressing our deepest human feelings.