Song of Songs 4 Literal Standard Version

41 Behold, you [are] beautiful, my friend, behold, you [are] beautiful, || Your eyes [are] doves behind your veil, || Your hair as a row of the goats that have shone from Mount Gilead, 2 Your teeth as a row of the shorn ones that have come up from the washing, || For all of them are forming twins, || And a bereaved one is not among them. 3 As a thread of scarlet [are] your lips, || And your speech [is] lovely, || As the work of the pomegranate [is] your temple behind your veil, 4 As the Tower of David [is] your neck, built for an armory, || The chief of the shields are hung on it, || All shields of the mighty. 5 Your two breasts [are] as two fawns, || Twins of a roe, that are feeding among lilies. 6 Until the day breaks forth, || And the shadows have fled away, || I go for myself to the mountain of myrrh, || And to the hill of frankincense. 7 You [are] all beautiful, my friend, || And there is not a blemish in you. Come from Lebanon, O spouse, 8 Come from Lebanon, come in. Look from the top of Amana, || From the top of Shenir and Hermon, || From the habitations of lions, || From the mountains of leopards. 9 You have emboldened me, my sister-spouse, || Emboldened me with one of your eyes, || With one chain of your neck. 10 How beautiful have been your loves, my sister-spouse, || How much better have been your loves than wine, || And the fragrance of your perfumes than all spices. 11 Your lips drop honey, O spouse, || Honey and milk [are] under your tongue, || And the fragrance of your garments || [Is] as the fragrance of Lebanon. 12 A garden shut up [is] my sister-spouse, || A spring shut up—a fountain sealed. 13 Your shoots a paradise of pomegranates, || With precious fruits, 14 Cypresses with nard—nard and saffron, || Cane and cinnamon, || With all trees of frankincense, || Myrrh and aloes, with all chief spices. 15 A fount of gardens, a well of living waters, || And flowings from Lebanon! 16 Awake, O north wind, and come, O south, || Cause my garden to breathe forth, its spices let flow, || Let my beloved come to his garden, || And eat its pleasant fruits!