My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feeds his flock among the lilies.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, which feed among the lilies.

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

My beloved has gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed his flock in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: he feeds his flock among the lilies.

Your navel is like a round goblet, which lacks not blended drink: your belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.