The groom

4 You are beautiful, my darling, like Tirtsah,

≈ lovely like Yerushalem,

≈ awe-inspiring like armies marching with banners.

5 Turn your eyes away from me, because they excite me.

Your hair is like a flock of goats that hop down from Mt. Gilead.

6 Your teeth are like a flock of ewes that have come up from the washing,

all of which have twin lambs and none of them have died.

7 Your cheeks are like a slice of a pomegranate

from behind your veil.

8 He has sixty queens, and eighty concubines,

≈ and young women without number.

9 She’s special, my dove, my perfect one.

≈ She’s special to her mother—perfect to the woman who bore her.

The young women saw her and called her blessed.

≈ The queens and the concubines praised her:

10 “Who is that, the woman who looks down like the dawn,

beautiful like the moon,

pure like the sun,

awe-inspiring like armies marching with banners?”

11 I went down to the nut tree garden to look at the green shoots of the valley

to see if the grapevine had budded?

≈ Had the pomegranates bloomed?

12 Before I realised it,

my desire had put me among my people’s chariots, a noble.

7 The groom

7 Your feet are so beautiful in sandals, daughter of a noble.

The curves of your thighs are like ornaments—the work of a craftsman’s hands.

2 Your navel is like a round bowl

that never lacks spiced wine.

Your belly is like a pile of threshed wheat

encircled with lily flowers.

3 Your two breasts are like two fawns—

a gazelle’s twins.

4 Your neck is like a tower of ivory.

Your eyes are pools in Heshbon

by the gate of Bath Rabbim.

Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon,

looking to the face of Damascus.

5 Your head crowns you like Mt. Carmel,

and the loose hair of your head is like purple robes—

a king is held captive in their tresses.

6 You’re so beautiful and so lovely—

you’re love with added delights!

7 You’re tall like a palm tree,

and your breasts like its clusters of dates.

8 I said, “I’ll go up the palm tree.

I’ll grab hold of its stalks of fruit.”

And, please, let your breasts be like the clusters on the grapevine,

and let the fragrance of your nose be like apples,

9 and let your mouth be like the best wine

going down smoothly for my dearest—

gliding over the lips of those who sleep.