Add parallel Print Page Options

“My sister, my spouse, you have wounded my heart. You have wounded my heart with one of your eyes, with a chain of your neck.

10 “My sister, my spouse, how fair is your love? How much better is your love than wine, and the savor of your ointments than all spices?

11 “Your lips, my spouse, drop as honeycombs. Honey and milk are under your tongue. And the savor of your garment is as the savor of Lebanon.

Read full chapter