Moff SNG Chapter 7

How neatly you trip it,

O princess mine

your thighs are swaying like links of a chai

that a master-hand has moulded;

your waist is round as a goble

(ever be it filled!)

your body a bundle of whea

encircled by lilies;

your breasts like a pair of fawns

twins of a roe-deer;

your neck like an ivory tower

your head on it lofty as Karmel;

your eyes like the pools at Heshbon,

by the gate of that populous town;

your nose like the tower at Lebanon

that faces Damascus;

your hair as glossy as purple-

its tresses hold captive your lord;

“How fair, O my love!” he cries

“how delicious for love’s delight!

You stand there straight as a palm,

with breasts like clusters of fruit;

methinks I will climb that palm

taking hold of the boughs!

Oh may your breasts be clusters of fruit,

and your breath sweet as an apple!

May your kisses be exquisite wine

that slips so smoothly down

gliding over the lips and the teeth!”

I am my darling’s, and he--

he is longing for me.

Come away to the fields, O my darling,

let us sleep in the blossoms of henna,

and hie us at dawn to the vineyards,

to see if the vines are a-budding,

if their blossoms are open

if pomegranates bloom;

and there I will give you caresses of love,

love’s apples yielding their scent,

and the fruitage of all my charms—

choice fruits, old and new,

I have kept them, my darling, for you.