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She
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth— for your love is more delightful than wine.
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Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out. No wonder the young women love you!
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Take me away with you—let us hurry! Let the king bring me into his chambers.
Friends
We rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine. She
How right they are to adore you!
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Tell me, you whom I love, where you graze your flock and where you rest your sheep at midday. Why should I be like a veiled woman beside the flocks of your friends?
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Friends
If you do not know, most beautiful of women, follow the tracks of the sheep and graze your young goats by the tents of the shepherds.
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Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings, your neck with strings of jewels.
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He
How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes are doves.
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He
My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
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He
How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are doves. Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from the hills of Gilead.
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Your teeth are like a flock of sheep just shorn, coming up from the washing. Each has its twin; not one of them is alone.
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Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon; your mouth is lovely. Your temples behind your veil are like the halves of a pomegranate.
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Your neck is like the tower of David, built with courses of stone; on it hang a thousand shields, all of them shields of warriors.
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Your breasts are like two fawns, like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies.
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Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon. Descend from the crest of Amana, from the top of Senir, the summit of Hermon, from the lions’ dens and the mountain haunts of leopards.
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You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace.
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How delightful is your love, my sister, my bride! How much more pleasing is your love than wine, and the fragrance of your perfume more than any spice!
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Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride; milk and honey are under your tongue. The fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
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Your plants are an orchard of pomegranates with choice fruits, with henna and nard,
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He
I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. Friends
Eat, friends, and drink; drink your fill of love.
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Friends
How is your beloved better than others, most beautiful of women? How is your beloved better than others, that you so charge us?
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Friends
Where has your beloved gone, most beautiful of women? Which way did your beloved turn, that we may look for him with you?
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Turn your eyes from me; they overwhelm me. Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Gilead.
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Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing. Each has its twin, not one of them is missing.
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Your temples behind your veil are like the halves of a pomegranate.
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How beautiful your sandaled feet, O prince’s daughter! Your graceful legs are like jewels, the work of an artist’s hands.
