Song 7
1 
               How beautiful are your feet in sandals, O prince`s daughter! Your rounded thighs are
                  like jewels, The work of the hands of a skillful workman.
                  
               2 
               Your body is [like] a round goblet, [Wherein] no mingled wine is wanting: Your waist
                  is [like] a heap of wheat Set about with lilies.
                  
               3 
               Your two breasts are like two fawns That are twins of a roe.
               4 
               Your neck is like the tower of ivory; Your eyes [as] the pools in Heshbon, By the
                  gate of Bath-rabbim; Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon Which looks toward Damascus.
                  
               5 
               Your head upon you is like Carmel, And the hair of your head like purple; The king
                  is held captive in the tresses [thereof].
                  
               6 
               How fair and how pleasant are you, O love, for delights!
               7 
               This your stature is like to a palm-tree, And your breasts to its clusters.
               8 
               I said, I will climb up into the palm-tree, I will take hold of its branches:
                  Let your breasts be as clusters of the vine, And the smell of your breath like apples,
                  
               9 
               And your mouth like the best wine, That goes down smoothly for my beloved, Gliding
                  through the lips of those that are asleep.
                  
               10 
               I am my beloved`s; And his desire is toward me.
               11 
               Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; Let us lodge in the villages.
               12 
               Let us get up early to the vineyards; Let us see whether the vine has budded, [And]
                  its blossom is open, [And] the pomegranates are in flower: There will I give you my
                  love.
                  
               13 
               The mandrakes give forth fragrance; And at our doors are all manner of precious fruits,
                  new and old, Which I have laid up for you, O my beloved.