Song of Songs 7

¹Why would you look at the Shulammite

as at the dance of Mahanaim?

²How beautiful are your feet in sandals,

O prince's daughter!

Your hips are curved like a necklace,

the work of the hands of a craftsman.

³Your navel is a round mixing bowl.

It never lacks blended wine.

Your belly is a mound of wheat encircled by lilies.

⁴Your two breasts are like two fawns

twins of a gazelle.

⁵Your neck is like an ivory tower.

Your eyes are the pools in Heshbon

by the gate of Bat Rabbim.

Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon

overlooking Damascus.

⁶Your head rises above you like Mount Carmel.

The flowing hair of your head is like purple.

The king is captivated by its curls.

⁷How beautiful you are and how pleasing,

O loved one, daughter of delights!

⁸Your height is like that of the date palm,

and your breasts like clusters of fruit.

⁹I said, “I will climb the date palm.

I will take hold of its bunches of fruit.”

May your breasts be like the clusters of the vine,

the fragrance of your breath like apples,

¹⁰and your mouth like the best wine—

—flowing to my lover,

gliding smoothly over lips and teeth.

¹¹I belong to my lover,

and his desire is for me.

¹²Come, my lover,

let us go to the fields.

Let us spend the night in the villages.

¹³Let us go early to the vineyards.

We will see if the vines have budded,

if their blossoms have opened,

if the pomegranates are in bloom.

There I will give my love to you.

The mandrakes send out their fragrance.

At our door is every delicacy,

new as well as old,

that I have stored up for you, my lover.