She identifies both him and hersewith this world. Two examples highlight the mimplementation of this quality of nature: a) “Like an apple tree among trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the youths.” b) “My beloved is like a gazelle or like a young stag.” In both instances – one from the world of flora, and the other from the world of fauna – she emphasizes freedom and mobility. The inorganic world, which stands motionless, passively, waiting for the human being to come along and utilize its elements for his own purposes, does not exist in the Re’aya’s imagery. From the outset of the Megilla through her lover’s ultimate arrival and knock on her door, the Re’aya includes no images from the world of arts and crafts; she draws entirely upon the images of nature.
The world of her Dod, by contrast, is far more complex. He doesn’t reject the natural drive, but rather tries to control it. He does not look for a purely artificial existence, bereft of natural emotion and vitality. Rather, he seeks a world where the passionate heart functions harmoniously with the sophisticated human mind. He must therefore turn to both realms – the pure world of nature and the human world of the arts – in depicting their relationship, and at times he combines the two in a single, complex metaphor. At one point he turns to her and exclaims, “Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, browsing among the lilies.” On the other hand, he also declares, “Your cheeks are comely with plaited wreaths, your neck with strings of jewels. We will add wreaths of gold to your spangles of silver.”
The complexity of his approach is manifest most clearly in his opening praise to the Re’aya (1:9): “I have likened you, my darling, to a horse in Pharaoh’s chariots.” On the one hand, the horse ranks among the classic symbols of unrestrained, natural energy (e.g. Iyov 39:19-25), and for good reason is the frontier culture of the “Wild West” often associated with this specific animal. However, the horse referred to here is tied to a chariot. Enormous reservoirs of energy lie within this horse, but he is harnessed to meet the demands of man, who works every muscle and demands total compliance to his will. Thus, the chariot-horse symbolizes channeled and suppressed energy, the submission of impulse to authority. This horse accurately represents the stirred emotion and excitement that patiently await the proper time to burst forth. The Dod later continues, “Ah, you are fair, my darling, ah, you are fair. Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down Mount Gilead…” Her hair has grown beyond limitation, but her face lies concealed by the veil. Throughout the Megilla, the Dod blends these two worlds, weaving together the wreaths of gold and spangles of silver with the lily among thorns, and the eyes like doves with strings of jewels.
Upon closer analysis, we can discern a certain progression throughout his depiction. The closer we are to the beginning of the Megilla, when the relationship between the Dod and the Re’aya is still in its early formative stages, the more we find images of specifically inanimate objects. As the relationship progresses, there develops a gradual transition to images from the natural world. By the time the Dod arrives at his beloved’s door, not a single inorganic image is enlisted. When the time of love arrives, the bed that had been guarded by sixty armed soldiers ceases to be an object constructed from cedars of Lebanon with pillars of silver and golden upholstery. At this point, the Dod emotionally proclaims (4:15), “You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water, a stream from Lebanon,” and, immediately thereafter (5:2), “Let me in, my own, my darling, my faultless dove! For my head is drenched with dew, my locks with the damp of night.”