The Beloved
1 How beautiful are your feet in sandals,
O prince’s daughter!
The curves of your thighs are like jewels,
The work of the hands of a skillful workman.
It lacks no [a]blended beverage.
Your waist is a heap of wheat
Set about with lilies.
Twins of a gazelle.
Your eyes like the pools in Heshbon
By the gate of Bath Rabbim.
Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon
Which looks toward Damascus.
And the hair of your head is like purple;
A king is held captive by your tresses.
O love, with your delights!
And your breasts like its clusters.
I will take hold of its branches.”
Let now your breasts be like clusters of the vine,
The fragrance of your [b]breath like apples,
The Shulamite
The wine goes down smoothly for my beloved,
[c]Moving gently the [d]lips of sleepers.
And his desire is toward me.
Let us go forth to the field;
Let us lodge in the villages.
Let us see if the vine has budded,
Whether the grape blossoms are open,
And the pomegranates are in bloom.
There I will give you my love.
And at our gates are pleasant fruits,
All manner, new and old,
Which I have laid up for you, my beloved.