If you do not know, most beautiful among women, follow the tracks of the sheep. Graze your young goats beside the shepherds' tents.

I will get up now, and go about the city; in the streets and in the squares I will seek him whom my soul loves. I sought him, but I did not find him.

You are all beautiful, my love. There is no spot in you.

Your body is like a round goblet, no mixed wine is wanting. Your waist is like a heap of wheat, set about with lilies.

The mandrakes give forth fragrance. At our doors are all kinds of precious fruits, new and old, which I have stored up for you, my beloved.

Oh that you were like my brother, who sucked the breasts of my mother. If I found you outside, I would kiss you; yes, and no one would despise me.

We have a little sister. She has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister in the day when she is to be spoken for?