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.
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Read Song of Songs 4
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