7 The guards making rounds in the city found me. They beat me, bruised me. The guards on the walls took my veil from me.
8 Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you, if you should find my lover, what will you tell him? That I am sick from love!
9 How is your lover different from other lovers, O most beautiful among women? How is your lover different from other lovers that you charge us so?
10 My lover is dazzling and ruddy, standing out among ten thousand.
11 His head is purest gold, his hair is wavy, black as a raven.
12 His eyes are like doves beside streams of water, washed with milk, mounted in their settings.
13 His cheeks are like a bed of spice, towers of sweet-scented perfume. His lips are lilies, dripping with liquid myrrh.