11I went down to the garden of nuts, to see the stream in the valley, to see whether the vine had budded, whether the pomegranates had budded.12I did not know, my soul, that they made me like the chariots of my noble people.
7
Chapter 7
1Return, return, O Shulammite! Return, return, that we may gaze on you. What do you see in the Shulammite, as in the dance of the camps?2How beautiful are your feet in sandals, daughter of a noble! The curves of your thighs are like ornaments, the work of the hands of an artisan.3Your navel is a round bowl—may it not lack the mingling. Your belly is a heap of wheat, rounded with lilies.4Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.5Your neck is like the tower of ivory. Your eyes are pools in Heshbon at the gate of the Daughter of Many. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon looking toward the face of Damascus.6Your head crowns you like Carmel, and the hair of your head is like purple. A king is bound in the locks.7How beautiful and how pleasant you are, love, in delights.8This is your stature; it resembles a palm tree, and your breasts are like clusters.9I said, "I will climb the palm tree, I will grasp its clusters, and may your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the fragrance of your nose like apples."