“My beloved is mine, and I am his;
He pastures 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 balsam,
Banks of sweet-scented herbs;
His lips are lilies
Dripping with liquid myrrh.

“My beloved has gone down to his garden,
To the beds of balsam,
To pasture his flock in the gardens
And gather lilies.

“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine,
He who pastures his flock among the lilies.”

“Your navel is like a round goblet
Which never lacks mixed wine;
Your belly is like a heap of wheat
Fenced about with lilies.

And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin,

Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these.