SONG 7:1 As the chorus of `Mahanaim.' How beautiful were thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides `are' as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer.
SONG 7:2 Thy waist `is' a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
SONG 7:3 Thy two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
SONG 7:4 Thy neck as a tower of the ivory, Thine eyes pools in Heshbon, near the gate of Bath-Rabbim, Thy face as a tower of Lebanon looking to Damascus,
SONG 7:5 Thy head upon thee as Carmel, And the locks of thy head as purple, The king is bound with the flowings!
SONG 7:6 How fair and how pleasant hast thou been, O love, in delights.
SONG 7:7 This thy stature hath been like to a palm, And thy breasts to clusters.
SONG 7:8 I said, `Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,
SONG 7:9 And thy palate as the good wine --' Flowing to my beloved in uprightness, Strengthening the lips of the aged!
SONG 7:10 I `am' my beloved's, and on me `is' his desire.
SONG 7:11 Come, my beloved, we go forth to the field,
SONG 7:12 We lodge in the villages, we go early to the vineyards, We see if the vine hath flourished, The sweet smelling-flower hath opened. The pomegranates have blossomed, There do I give to thee my loves;
SONG 7:13 The mandrakes have given fragrance, And at our openings all pleasant things, New, yea, old, my beloved, I laid up for thee!