Son7:1 As the chorus of `Mahanaim.' How beautiful were thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides [are] as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer.
Son7:2 Thy waist [is] a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
Son7:3 Thy two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
Son7:4 Thy neck as a tower of the ivory, Thine eyes pools in Heshbon, near the gate of Bath-Rabbim, Thy face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,
Son7:5 Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
Son7:6 How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.
Son7:7 This thy stature hath been like to a palm, And thy breasts to clusters.
Son7:8 I said, `Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,
Son7:9 And thy palate as the good wine --' Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
Son7:10 I [am] my beloved's, and on me [is] his desire.
Son7:11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
Son7:12 We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine hath flourished, The sweet smelling-flower hath opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There do I give to thee my loves;
Son7:13 The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, yea, old, my beloved, I laid up for thee!