The Beloved
1 Behold, you are fair, my love!
Behold, you are fair!
You have dove’s eyes behind your veil.
Your hair is like a flock of goats,
Going down from Mount Gilead.
Which have come up from the washing,
Every one of which bears twins,
And none is [a]barren among them.
And your mouth is lovely.
Your temples behind your veil
Are like a piece of pomegranate.
Built for an armory,
On which hang a thousand [b]bucklers,
All shields of mighty men.
Twins of a gazelle,
Which feed among the lilies.
And the shadows flee away,
I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh
And to the hill of frankincense.
And there is no spot in you.
With me from Lebanon.
Look from the top of Amana,
From the top of Senir and Hermon,
From the lions’ dens,
From the mountains of the leopards.
My sister, my spouse;
You have ravished my heart
With one look of your eyes,
With one link of your necklace.
My sister, my spouse!
How much better than wine is your love,
And the [c]scent of your perfumes
Than all spices!
Drip as the honeycomb;
Honey and milk are under your tongue;
And the fragrance of your garments
Is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
Is my sister, my spouse,
A spring shut up,
A fountain sealed.
With pleasant fruits,
Fragrant henna with spikenard,
Calamus and cinnamon,
With all trees of frankincense,
Myrrh and aloes,
With all the chief spices —
A well of living waters,
And streams from Lebanon.
16 Awake, O north wind,
And come, O south!
Blow upon my garden,
That its spices may flow out.
Let my beloved come to his garden
And eat its pleasant fruits.