Song Of Songs 7

“You are like a prince’s daughter.
    Your feet in sandals are so beautiful.
Your graceful legs are like jewels.
    The hands of an artist must have shaped them.

How beautiful are thy feet with shoes, O prince's daughter! the joints of thy thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning workman.

Your navel is like a round bowl
    that always has mixed wine in it.
Your waist is like a mound of wheat
    surrounded by lilies.

Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.

Your two breasts are lovely.
    They are like two young antelopes.

Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.

Your neck is smooth and beautiful like an ivory tower.
Your eyes are like the pools of Heshbon
    by the gate of Bath Rabbim.
Your nose is like the towering mountains of Lebanon
    that face the city of Damascus.

Thy neck is as a tower of ivory; thine eyes like the fishpools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bathrabbim: thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus.

Your head is like a crown on you.
    It is as beautiful as Mount Carmel.
Your hair is as smooth as purple silk.
    I am captured by your flowing curls.

Thine head upon thee is like Carmel, and the hair of thine head like purple; the king is held in the galleries.

You are so beautiful! You please me so much!
    You are so delightful, my love!

How fair and how pleasant art thou, O love, for delights!

You are as graceful as a palm tree.
    Your breasts are as sweet as the freshest fruit.

This thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes.

I said, ‘I will climb the palm tree.
    I’ll take hold of its fruit.’
May your breasts be as sweet as grapes on the vine.
    May your breath smell like the tastiest apples.

I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of the boughs thereof: now also thy breasts shall be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of thy nose like apples;

    May your lips be like the finest wine.”

And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved, that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.

“I belong to you, my love.
    And you long for me.

I am my beloved's, and his desire is toward me.

Come, my love. Let’s go to the country.
    Let’s spend the night in the villages.

Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.

Let’s go out to the vineyards early.
    Let’s go and see if the vines have budded.
Let’s find out whether their flowers have opened.
    Let’s see if the pomegranate trees are blooming.
    There I will give you my love.

Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee my loves.

The mandrake flowers give off their strong smell.
    All the best things are waiting for us,
new and old alike.
    I’ve stored them up for you, my love.