Thou art, all over, beautiful, my fair one, and, blemish, is there none in thee.

Thy teeth, are like a flock of sheep which have come up from the washing-place, - whereof, all of them, are twin-bearers, and bereaved, is there none among them:

Threescore, are the queens, and, fourscore, are the concubines, - and, virgins, there are, without number.

Let us get up early to the vineyards, Let us see whether the vine, hath burst forth, the blossom, hath opened, the pomegranates, have bloomed, - There, will I give my caresses to thee.