Behold thee beautiful, my friend, behold thee beautiful; thine eyes doves' from behind to thy veil: thy hair as a herd of goats which lay down from mount Gilead.

As a scarlet thread thy lips, and thy speech becoming: as a piece of pomegranate, thy temples from behind thy veil.

Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south, blow upon my garden; its spices shall flow out. My beloved shall come to his garden, and he shall eat his most precious fruits.

I Came to my garden, my sister, O spouse: I gathered my myrrh with my spices; I ate my droppings with my honey; I drank my wine with my milk: Eat, O friends; drink ye, and drink to the full, O beloved ones.

They watching going round about in the city, found me; they struck me, they wounded me: they watching the wall took away my veil from me.

As a piece of pomegranate thy temples from behind thy veil.

I went down into the garden of nuts to look upon the greens of the valley, to see whether the vine was fruitful, whether the pomegranates blossomed.

And thy palate as good wine going to my beloved for uprightness, causing the lips of the sleeping to flow softly.

Flee, my beloved, and be it likened to thee to the roe or to the fawn of the hinds upon the mountains of spices.