It was now Wednesday night. Helga remembered Arnold had Bible Study on Wednesdays, and she didn't plan on going to church anytime soon. She didn't think once if she'll ever publish more spiritual stories like this one, but only the Lord ha this all planned out and she would know when the time is right. Once again she flipped to chapter one of Song of Songs. At least she had enough time today to start typing it up.
Chapter 1:2-3
Kiss me – full on the mouth!
Yes! Your love is better than wine,
Headier than your aromatic oils.
The syllables of your name murmur like a meadow brook
No wonder everyone loves to say your name!
4
Take me away with you! Let's run off together!
An elopement with my King – Lover!
We'll celebrate, we'll sing,
We'll make great music.
Yes! For your love is better than vintage wine.
Everyone loves you – of course! And why not?
5-6
I am weathered but still elegant,
Oh, dear sisters in Jerusalem,
Weather – 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.
7
Tell me where you're working
- I love you so much –
Tell me where you're tending your flocks,
Where you left them rest at noontime
Why should I be the one left out,
Outside the orbit of your tender care?
12-14
When my King – Lover lay down beside me,
My fragrance filled the room.
His head resting between my breasts
The head of my lover was a sachet of sweet myrrh.
My beloved is a bouquet of wildflowers
Picked just for me from the fields of Engedi.
16-17
And, you, my dear lover – you're so handsome!
And the bed we share is like a forest glen,
We enjoy a canopy of cedar,
Enclosed by cypresses, fragrant and green.
2:1
I'm just a wildflower picked form the plains of Sharon,
A lotus blossom from the valley pools.
3:4
As an apricot tree stands and in the forest,
My lover stand above the young men in town.
All I want is to sit in his shade,
To taste and savor his delicious love.
He took me home with him for a festive meal,
But his eyes feasted on me!
5-6
Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem,
By the gazelles, yes, by all the wild deer:
Don't excite love, don't stir it up,
Until the time is ripe – and you're ready.
8-10
Look! Listen! There's my lover!
Do you see him coming?
Vaulting the mountains,
Leaping the hills.
My lover is like a gazelle, graceful;
Like a young stag, virile.
Look at him there, on tiptoe at the gate,
All ears, all eyes – ready!
My lover has arrived
And he's speaking to me!
15
Then you must protect me from the foxes,
Foxes on the prowl,
Foxes who would like nothing better
Than to get into our flowering garden.
16-17
Mt lover is mine, and I am his
Nightly he strolls in our garden,
Delighting in the flowers
Until dawn breathes its light and night slips away
Turn to me, dear lover.
Come like a gazelle.
Leap like a wild stag
On delectable mountains!
3:1-4
Restless in bed and sleepless through the night,
I longed for my lover.
I wanted him desperately. His absence was painful.
So I got up, went out and raved the city,
Hunting through streets and down alleys.
I wanted my lover in the worst way!
I looked high and low, and didn't find him.
And then the night watchmen found me
As they patrolled the darkened city,
"Have you seen my dear lost love?" I asked.
No sooner had I let them than I found him,
Found my dear lost love.
I threw my arms around him and held him tight,
Wouldn't let him go until I had him home again,
Safe at home beside the fire.
6-10
What's this I see, approaching from the desert,
Raising clouds of dust,
Filling the air with street smells
And pungent aromatics?
Look! It's Solomon's carriage,
Carried and guarded by sixty soldiers,
Sixty of Israel's finest,
All of them armed to the teeth,
Trained for battle,
Ready for anything, anytime.
King Solomon once had a carriage built,
From fine – grained Lebanon cedar.
He had it framed with silver and roofed with gold.
The cushions were covered with a purple fabric,
The interior lined with tooled leather.
11
come and look, sisters in Jerusalem.
Oh, sisters of Zion, don't miss this!
My King – Lover,
Dressed and garlanded for his wedding,
His heart full, bursting with joy!
4:16
Wake up, North Wind!
Get moving, South Wind!
Breathe on my garden,
All the air with spice fragrance.
Oh, let my lover enter his garden!
Yes, let him eat at the fine, ripe fruits.
5:2
i was sound asleep, but in my dreams I was wide awake.
Oh, listen! It's the sound of my lover knocking, calling!
3
"But I'm in my nightgown – do you want me to get dressed?
I'm bathed and in bed – do you want me to get dirty?"
4-7
But my lover wouldn't take no for an answer,
And the longer he knocked, the more excited I became.
I got up to open the door to my lover,
Sweetly ready to receive him,
Desiring and expectant
As I turned the door handle.
But when I opened the door he was gone.
My loved one had tired of waiting and left.
And I died inside – oh, I felt so bad!
I ran out looking for him.
But he was nowhere to be found.
I called into the darkness – but no answer.
The night watchmen found me
As they patrolled the streets of the city.
They slapped and beat and bruised me,
Ripping off my clothes,
These watchmen,
Who were supposed to be guarding the city.
8
I beg you, sisters in Jerusalem –
If you find my lover,
Please tell him I want him,
That I'm heartsick with love for him.
9 Chorus:
What's so great about your lover, fair lady?
What's so special about him that you beg for our help?
10-16
My dear lover grows with health –
Red – blooded, radiant!
He's one in a million.
There's no one quite like him!
My golden me, pure and tarnished,
With raven black curls tumbling across his shoulders.
His eyes are like doves, soft and bright,
But deep – set, brimming with meaning, like wells of water.
His face is rugged, his beard smells like sage,
His voice, his words, warm and reassuring.
Fine muscles ripple beneath his skin,
Quiet and beautiful.
His torso is the work of a sculptor,
Hard and smooth as ivory.
He stands tall, like a cedar,
Strong and deep – rooted,
A rugged mountain of a man,
Aromatic with wood and stone.
His words are kisses, his kisses word.
Everything about him delights me, thrills me.
Through and through!
That's my lover, that's my man,
Dear Jerusalem sisters.
6:1 Chorus:
so where has this love of yours gone,
fair one?
Where on earth can he be?
Can we help you look for him?
6:2-3
Never mind. My lover is already on his way to his garden,
To browse among the flowers, touching the colors and forms.
I am my lover's and my lover is mine.
He caresses the sweet – smelling flowers.
7:9-12
Yes, and yours are, too – my love's kisses
Flow from his lips to mine.
I am my lover's.
I'm all he wants. I'm all the world to him!
Come, dear lover-
Let's sleep at some wayside inn,
Then rise early and listen to bird – song
Let's look for wildflowers in bloom,
Blackberry bushes blossoming white,
Fruit trees festooned
With cascading flowers.
And there I'll give myself to you,
My love to your love!
13
Love – apples drench us with fragrance,
Fertility surrounds suffuses us,
Fruits fresh and preserved
That I've kept and saved just for you, my lover.
8:1-2
I wish you'd been my twin brother,
Sharing with me the breasts of my mother;
Playing outside in the street,
Kissing in plain view of everyone,
And no one thinking anything of it.
I'd take you by the hand and bring you home.
Where I was raised by my mother.
You'd drink my wine
And kiss my cheeks.
3 – 4
Imagine! His left hand cradling my head,
His right arm around my waist!
Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem:
Don't excite love, don't stir it up,
Until the time is ripe – and you're ready.
Chorus:
Who is this I see coming up from the country,
Arm in arm with her lover?
6 – 8
Hang my locket around your neck,
Wear my ring on your finger.
Love is invincible facing danger and death.
Passion laughs at the terrors of hell.
The fire of love stops at nothing –
A sweeps everything before it.
Flood waters can't drown love,
Torrents of rain can't put it out.
Love can't be bought, love can't be sold –
It's not to be found in the marketplace.
My brothers used to worry about me:
"Our little sister has no breasts.
What shall we do with our little sister
When men come asking for her?
She's a virgin and vulnerable,
And we'll protect her.
If they think she's a wall, we'll top it with barbed wire
If they think she's a door, we'll barricade it."
10
Dear brothers, I'm a walled – in virgin still,
But my breasts are full –
And when my lover sees me,
He knows he'll soon be satisfied.
14
Run to me, dear lover.
Come like a gazelle.
Leap like a wild stag
On the spice mountains.
Once again Helga looked at her typed story. This past week she looked for an agent, and she was accepted when she sent what she had at the minute. She came up with a title, which was named after country music artist, Conway Twitty's Hello, Darlin.' The title did fit too. Once the story was printing, Helga kept that smile on her face. It always made you happy when all the hard work you do on your job. That's how Helga felt.
Over the weekend, Helga took the bus to the agent she wanted to trust so she could go to when a project like this one was finished. She even left the house without telling Bob and Miriam where she was going. It took some time for the editor to look at her story. He loved the story, he told her, and would put it on the market right away. He also told her they would mail the first copy.
After she signed her contract, she thanked her agent and editor and left. They had her address so they could send it once it was printed. She would look forward to receiving the package. This will really put a smile on Bob's face for sure, she told herself.