“Look! You are beautiful, my beloved.
Look! You are beautiful.
Your eyes are those of doves behind your veil.
Your hair is like a flock of goats
Streaming down the mountains of Gilead.
Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn sheep
That have come up from being washed,
All of them bearing twins,
And not one has lost her young.
Your lips are like a scarlet thread,
And your speech is delightful.
Like a segment of pomegranate
Are your cheeks behind your veil.
Your neck is like the tower of David,
Built with courses of stone
Upon which are hung a thousand shields,
All the circular shields of the mighty men.
Your two breasts are like two fawns,
The twins of a gazelle,
That feed among the lilies.”
“Until the day grows breezy and the shadows flee,
I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh
And to the hill of frankincense.”
“You are altogether beautiful, my beloved,
There is no blemish in you.
Come with me from Lebanon, my bride,
Come with me from Lebanon.
Descend from the peak of Amanah,
From the peak of Senir, the peak of Hermon,
From the lairs of lions, from the mountains of leopards.
You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride,
You have captured my heart with one glance of your eyes,
With one pendant of your necklace.
How beautiful your expressions of affection are, my sister, my bride!
Your expressions of affection are far better than wine,
And the fragrance of your perfume than any spice!
Your lips, my bride, drip with comb honey.
Honey and milk are under your tongue,
And the fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
My sister, my bride, is like a locked garden,
A locked garden, a spring sealed shut.
Your shoots are a paradise of pomegranates
With the choicest fruits, with henna along with spikenard plants,
Spikenard and saffron, cane and cinnamon,
With all sorts of trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes,
Along with all the finest perfumes.
You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water,
And flowing streams from Lebanon.
Awake, O north wind;
Come in, O south wind.
Breathe upon my garden.
Let its fragrance spread.”
“Let my dear one come into his garden
And eat its choicest fruits.”
— New World Translation, Song of Solomon Chapter 4