Song of Solomon 4:1–7

Behold, you are beautiful, my love,

behold, you are beautiful!

Your eyes are doves

behind your veil.

Your hair is like a flock of goats

leaping down the slopes of Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes

that have come up from the washing,

all of which bear twins,

and not one among them has lost its young.

Your lips are like a scarlet thread,

and your mouth is lovely.

Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate

behind your veil.

Your neck is like the tower of David,

built in rows of stone;

on it hang a thousand shields,

all of them shields of warriors.

Your two breasts are like two fawns,

twins of a gazelle,

that graze among the lilies.

Until the day breathes

and the shadows flee,

I will go away to the mountain of myrrh

and the hill of frankincense.

You are altogether beautiful, my love;

there is no flaw in you.

How beautiful you are, my darling!

Oh, how beautiful!

Your eyes behind your veil are doves.

Your hair is like a flock of goats

descending from the hills of Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep just shorn,

coming up from the washing.

Each has its twin;

not one of them is alone.

Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon;

your mouth is lovely.

Your temples behind your veil

are like the halves of a pomegranate.

Your neck is like the tower of David,

built with courses of stone;

on it hang a thousand shields,

all of them shields of warriors.

Your breasts are like two fawns,

like twin fawns of a gazelle

that browse among the lilies.

Until the day breaks

and the shadows flee,

I will go to the mountain of myrrh

and to the hill of incense.

You are altogether beautiful, my darling;

there is no flaw in you.

How beautiful you are, my darling.

How very beautiful!

Behind your veil,

your eyes are doves.

Your hair is like a flock of goats

streaming down Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of newly shorn sheep

coming up from washing,

each one bearing twins,

and none has lost its young.

Your lips are like a scarlet cord,

and your mouth is lovely.

Behind your veil,

your brow is like a slice of pomegranate.

Your neck is like the tower of David,

constructed in layers.

A thousand shields are hung on it—

all of them shields of warriors.

Your breasts are like two fawns,

twins of a gazelle, that feed among the lilies.

Until the day breaks

and the shadows flee,

I will make my way to the mountain of myrrh

and the hill of frankincense.

You are absolutely beautiful, my darling;

there is no imperfection in you.

You are beautiful, my darling,

beautiful beyond words.

Your eyes are like doves

behind your veil.

Your hair falls in waves,

like a flock of goats winding down the slopes of Gilead.

Your teeth are as white as sheep,

recently shorn and freshly washed.

Your smile is flawless,

each tooth matched with its twin.

Your lips are like scarlet ribbon;

your mouth is inviting.

Your cheeks are like rosy pomegranates

behind your veil.

Your neck is as beautiful as the tower of David,

jeweled with the shields of a thousand heroes.

Your breasts are like two fawns,

twin fawns of a gazelle grazing among the lilies.

Before the dawn breezes blow

and the night shadows flee,

I will hurry to the mountain of myrrh

and to the hill of frankincense.

You are altogether beautiful, my darling,

beautiful in every way.

Look! You are beautiful, my beloved!

Look! You are beautiful!

Your eyes are doves

from behind your veil.

Your hair is like a flock of goats

that move down from the mountains of Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes

that came up from the washing,

all of them bearing twins,

and there is none bereaved among them.

Your lips are like a thread of crimson,

and your mouth is lovely.

Your temple is like halves of pomegranate

from behind your veil.

Your neck is like the tower of David,

built in courses;

a thousand ornaments are hung on it,

all the shields of the warriors.

Your two breasts are like two fawns,

twins of a gazelle that feed among the lilies.

Until the day breathes and the shadows flee,

I will go to the mountain of the myrrh,

to the hill of the frankincense.

You are completely beautiful, my beloved!

You are flawless!

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair;

Thou hast doves’ eyes within thy locks:

Thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.

Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from the washing;

Whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among them.

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely:

Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks.

Thy neck is like the tower of David

Builded for an armoury,

Whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.

Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins,

Which feed among the lilies.

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away,

I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.

Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.