Song of the songs 4

1 “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 Gilʹead.

2 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.

3 Your lips are like a scarlet thread, And your speech is delightful. Like a segment of pomegranate Are your cheeks behind your veil.

4 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.

5 Your two breasts are like two fawns, The twins of a gazelle, That feed among the lilies.”

6 “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.”

7 “You are altogether beautiful, my beloved, There is no blemish in you.

8 Come with me from Lebʹanon, my bride, Come with me from Lebʹanon. Descend from the peak of Amaʹnah, From the peak of Seʹnir, the peak of Herʹmon, From the lairs of lions, from the mountains of leopards.

9 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.

10 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!

11 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 Lebʹanon.

12 My sister, my bride, is like a locked garden, A locked garden, a spring sealed shut.

13 Your shoots are a paradise of pomegranates With the choicest fruits, with henna along with spikenard plants,

14 Spikenard and saffron, cane and cinnamon, With all sorts of trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, Along with all the finest perfumes.

15 You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water, And flowing streams from Lebʹanon.

16 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.”

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