3 I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine. He feeds his flock among the lilies.
4 O my love, you are as fair as Tirtsah, Lovely as Yerushalayim, Awesome as an army with banners!
5 Turn your eyes away from me, Because they overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats That have hopped down from Gil‛aḏ.
6 Your teeth are like a flock of sheep That have come up from the washing; All of them bear twins, And not one among them has lost her young.
7 Your cheeks behind your veil are like a piece of pomegranate.
8 There are sixty sovereignesses and eighty concubines, And innumerable maidens.
9 My dove, my perfect one, Is the only one, the only one of her mother, The choice of the one who bore her. The daughters saw, and called her blessed, Sovereignesses and concubines, And they praised her.