With sweetness, thy lips do drip, O bride, - Honey and milk, are under thy tongue, and, the fragrance of thy garments, is like the fragrance of Lebanon.

HEI have entered my garden, my sister, bride, I have plucked my myrrh, with my balsam, I have eaten the honey of my thicket, I have drunk my wine, with my milk: - Eat ye, O friends, Drink, yea drink abundantly, ye beloved!

His eyes, like doves, by the channels of water, - bathing in milk, set as gems in a ring:

Oh that you were my brother, who took milk from my mother's breasts! When I came to you in the street, I would give you kisses; yes, I would not be looked down on.