Wednesday, 20 November 2013

Her Brothers

Catch us the foxes,
The little foxes that spoil the vines, For our vines have tender grapes.

  
We have a little sister, And she has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister In the day when she is spoken for?
If she is a wall,
We will build upon her A battlement of silver; And if she is a door, We will enclose her With boards of cedar.

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