Song of Songs 7
Admiration By The Bridegroom
O prince’s daughter!
The curves of your hips are like jewels,
The work of the hands of an artist.
Which never lacks mixed wine.
Your belly is like a heap of wheat
Surrounded with lilies.
The twins of a gazelle.
Your eyes the [sparkling] pools of Heshbon
By the gate of Bath-rabbim.
Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon
Which looks toward Damascus.
And the flowing hair of your head like purple threads;
I, the king, am held captive by your tresses.
My love, with all your delights!
And your breasts like its clusters [of dates].
I will grasp its branches.
Let your breasts be like clusters of the grapevine,
And the fragrance of your breath like apples,
Gliding gently over his lips while he sleeps.
The Union of Love
And his desire is for me.
Let us spend the night in the villages.
Let us see whether the vine has budded
And its blossoms have opened,
And whether the pomegranates have flowered.
There I will give you my love.
And over our doors are all [kinds of] choice fruits,
Both new and old,
Which I have saved up for you, my beloved.
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