Your neck is like a tower of ivory,
your eyes like pools in Heshbon
by the gate of Bath-rabbim.
Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon
looking toward Damascus.

Daughters of Jerusalem,
I am dark like the tents of Kedar,
yet lovely like the curtains of Solomon.

Your lips are like a scarlet cord,
and your mouth is lovely.
Behind your veil,
your brow is like a slice of pomegranate.

Your lips drip sweetness like the honeycomb, my bride.
Honey and milk are under your tongue.
The fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

His eyes are like doves
beside streams of water,
washed in milk
and set like jewels.

Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel,
the hair of your head like purple cloth—
a king could be held captive in your tresses.

I said, “I will climb the palm tree
and take hold of its fruit.”
May your breasts be like clusters of grapes,
and the fragrance of your breath like apricots.

W I am a wall
and my breasts like towers.
So in his eyes I have become
like one who finds peace.