Song 7
1 
               Your steps are beautiful in shoes, O daughter of the prince: the joints of your thighs
                  are like chains, the work of the craftsman.
                  
               2 
               Your navel is as a turned bowl, not wanting liquor; your belly is as a heap of wheat
                  set about with lilies.
                  
               3 
               Your two breasts are as two twin fawns.
               4 
               Your neck is as an ivory tower; your eyes are as pools in Esebon, by the gates of
                  the Heb. Bath-rabbim daughter of many: your nose is as the tower of Libanus, looking toward Damascus.
                  
               5 
               Your head upon you is as Carmel, and the curls of your hair like scarlet; the king
                  is bound in the Or, corridors galleries.
                  
               6 
               How beautiful are you, and how sweet are you, my love!
               7 
               This is your greatness in your delights: you were made like a palm tree, and your
                  breasts to cluster.
                  
               8 
               I said, I will go up to the palm tree, I will take hold of its high boughs: and now
                  shall your breasts be as clusters of the vine, and the smell of your nose of apples;
                  
               9 
               and your throat as good wine, going well with my kinsman, suiting my lips and teeth.
               10 
               I am my kinsman’s, and his Lit. turning desire is toward me.
               11 
               Come, my kinsman, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages.
               12 
               Let us go early into the vineyards; let us see if the vine has flowered, if the blossoms
                  have appeared, if the pomegranates have blossomed; there will I give you my breasts.
                  
               13 
               The mandrakes have given a smell, and at our doors are all kinds of choice fruits,
                  new and old. O my kinsman, I have kept them for you.