The Lover to His Beloved: O my beloved, you are like a mare among Pharaoh's stallions.

Your cheeks are beautiful with ornaments; your neck is lovely with strings of jewels.

The Lover to His Beloved: Oh, how beautiful you are, my beloved! Oh, how beautiful you are! Your eyes are like doves!

The Beloved to Her Lover: Oh, how handsome you are, my lover! Oh, how delightful you are! The lush foliage is our canopied bed;

the cedars are the beams of our bedroom chamber; the pines are the rafters of our bedroom.

Look! The winter has passed, the winter rains are over and gone.

All of them are skilled with a sword, well-trained in the art of warfare. Each has his sword at his side, to guard against the terrors of the night.

The Lover to His Beloved: Oh, you are beautiful, my darling! Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are like doves. Your hair is like a flock of female goats descending from Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of newly-shorn sheep coming up from the washing place; each of them has a twin, and not one of them is missing.

Your lips are like a scarlet thread; your mouth is lovely. Your forehead behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.

Your neck is like the tower of David built with courses of stones; one thousand shields are hung on it -- all shields of valiant warriors.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of the gazelle grazing among the lilies.

You are altogether beautiful, my darling! There is no blemish in you!

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.

The Lover to His Beloved: You are a locked garden, my sister, my bride; you are an enclosed spring, a sealed-up fountain.

Your shoots are a royal garden full of pomegranates with choice fruits: henna with nard,

You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water flowing down from Lebanon.

His eyes are like doves by streams of water, washed in milk, mounted like jewels.

His cheeks are like garden beds full of balsam trees yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with drops of myrrh.

His arms are like rods of gold set with chrysolite. His abdomen is like polished ivory inlaid with sapphires.

His legs are like pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.

The Lover to His Beloved: My darling, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as awe-inspiring as bannered armies!

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin; not one of them is missing.

The Lover to His Beloved: How beautiful are your sandaled feet, O nobleman's daughter! The curves of your thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a master craftsman.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.

Your neck is like a tower made of ivory. Your eyes are the pools in Heshbon by the gate of Bath-Rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon overlooking Damascus.

Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. The locks of your hair are like royal tapestries -- the king is held captive in its tresses!

How beautiful you are! How lovely, O love, with your delights!

The Lover to His Beloved: Your stature is like a palm tree, and your breasts are like clusters of grapes.

Let us rise early to go to the vineyards, to see if the vines have budded, to see if their blossoms have opened, if the pomegranates are in bloom -- there I will give you my love.

The Lover to His Beloved: O you who stay in the gardens, my companions are listening attentively for your voice; let me be the one to hear it!