The fragrance of your colognes is delightful; your name is like the finest perfume. No wonder the young women adore you!

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

Tell me, you, the one I love:
Where do you pasture your sheep?
Where do you let them rest at noon?
Why should I be like one who veils herself
beside the flocks of your companions?

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

My beloved is like a fragrant pouch of myrrh spending the night between my breasts.

My beloved is like a cluster of henna blossoms in the vineyards of En-Gedi.

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

M Like a lily among thorns,
so is my darling among the young women.

W Like an apricot tree among the trees of the forest,
so is my love among the young men.
I delight to sit in his shade,
and his fruit is sweet to my taste.

My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: Behold, he standeth behind our wall; He looketh in at the windows; He glanceth through the lattice.

Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, Turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart Upon the mountains of Bether.

Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness Like pillars of smoke, Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, With all powders of the merchant?

Behold, you are fair, my love; behold, you are fair; you have doves' eyes behind your veil: your hair is like a flock of goats, going down from mount Gilead.

Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes that are newly'shorn, Which are come up from the washing, Whereof every one hath twins, And none is bereaved among them.

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy mouth is comely. Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil.

Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armory, Whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, All the shields of the mighty men.

Thy two breasts are like two fawns That are twins of a roe, Which feed among the lilies.

Thy lips, O my bride, drop as the honeycomb: Honey and milk are under thy tongue; And the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.

The fruits that sprout in thee are like a very Paradise of pomegranates with sweet fruits:

Nevertheless when I had opened unto my beloved, he was departed and gone his way. Now like as afore time when he spake, my heart could not longer refrain: Even so now I sought him, but I could not find him: I cried upon him, nevertheless he gave me no answer.

What is so special about your beloved, most beautiful of women? What is so special about your beloved, that you charge us like this?

His head is like the purest gold. His hair is bushy, black as a raven.

His eyes are like doves by the water-brooks, Washed with milk, fitly set;

His cheeks are like a bed of spices, like sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dripping sweet smelling myrrh.

His hands are like rings of gold set with beryl. His body is like ivory work overlaid with sapphires.

His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold: His aspect is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.

You are beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, as fair as Jerusalem; you are to be feared like an army with flags.

Turn your eyes away from me,
for they captivate me.
Your hair is like a flock of goats
streaming down from Gilead.

Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.

Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil.

Who is she, looking down as the morning light, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, who is to be feared like an army with flags?

Or ere I was aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib.

The Lover to His Beloved: Turn, turn, O Perfect One! Turn, turn, that I may stare at you! The Beloved to Her Lover: Why do you gaze upon the Perfect One like the dance of the Mahanaim?

How beautiful are thy footsteps in sandals, O prince's daughter! The roundings of thy thighs are like jewels, The work of the hands of an artist.

Thy body is like a round goblet, Wherein no mingled wine is wanting: Thy waist is like a heap of wheat Set about with lilies.

Thy two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle;

Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; Thine eyes, like the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose like the tower of Lebanon, Which looketh toward Damascus;

Thy head upon thee is like Carmel, And the locks of thy head like purple; The king is fettered by thy ringlets!

This thy stature is like to a palm-tree, And thy breasts to grape clusters.

I said, I will go up to the palm-tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof; And thy breasts shall indeed be like clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy nose like apples,

And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine, ... That goeth down smoothly for my beloved, And stealeth over the lips of them that are asleep.

If only I could treat you like my brother,
one who nursed at my mother’s breasts,
I would find you in public and kiss you,
and no one would scorn me.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Set me like a cylinder seal over your heart, like a signet on your arm. For love is as strong as death, passion is as unrelenting as Sheol. Its flames burst forth, it is a blazing flame.

I am a wall, and my breasts like towers; Then was I in his eyes as one that findeth peace.

The companions are attending to thy voice, Cause me to hear. Flee, my beloved, and be like to a roe,

Haste, my beloved, And be thou like a gazelle or a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.