Song Of Solomon 7

¹ As the chorus of ‘Mahanaim.’ How beautiful were thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer.

² Thy waist [is] a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,

³ Thy two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,

⁴ Thy neck as a tower of the ivory, Thine eyes pools in Heshbon, near the gate of Bath-Rabbim, Thy face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,

⁵ Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!

⁶ How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.

⁷ This thy stature hath been like to a palm, And thy breasts to clusters.

⁸ I said, ‘Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,

⁹ And thy palate as the good wine — ‘Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!

¹⁰ I [am] my beloved’s, and on me [is] his desire.

¹¹ Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,

¹² We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine hath flourished, The sweet smelling-flower hath opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There do I give to thee my loves;

¹³ The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, yea, old, my beloved, I laid up for thee!