Shir Hashirim - Song of Songs 7
1Return, return, O Shulammite;
Return, return, that we may look upon thee.
2How beautiful are thy steps in sandals,
O prince’s daughter! The roundings of thy thighs are like the links of a chain, The work of the hands of a skilled workman.
3Thy navel is like a round goblet,
Wherein no mingled wine is wanting; Thy belly is like a heap of wheat Set about with lilies.
4Thy two breasts are like two fawns
That are twins of a gazelle.
5Thy neck is as a tower of ivory;
Thine eyes as the pools in Heshbon, By the gate of Bath-rabbim; Thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon Which looketh toward Damascus.
6Thy head upon thee is like Carmel,
And the hair of thy head like purple; The king is held captive in the tresses thereof.
7How fair and how pleasant art thou,
O love, for delights!
8This thy stature is like to a palm-tree,
And thy breasts to clusters of grapes.
9I said: ‘I will climb up into the palm-tree,
I will take hold of the branches thereof; And let thy breasts be as clusters of the vine, And the smell of thy countenance like apples;
10And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine,
That glideth down smoothly for my beloved, Moving gently the lips of those that are asleep.’
11I am my beloved’s,
And his desire is toward me.
12Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field;
Let us lodge in the villages.
13Let us get up early to the vineyards;
Let us see whether the vine hath budded, Whether the vine-blossom be opened, And the pomegranates be in flower; There will I give thee my love.
14The mandrakes give forth fragrance,
And at our doors are all manner of precious fruits, New and old, Which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.