Come to me, my love, like a
gazelle,
like a young stag on the
mountains where spices grow
How beautiful are your feet in
sandals
The curve of your thighs
is like the work of an artist.
A bowl is there,
that never runs out of spiced
wine.
Your breasts are like twin deer,
like two gazelles.
They are clusters of dates,
like bunches of grapes.
Rose of sharon,
You are as graceful as a palm tree,
your breath like the fragrance of
apples.