How beautiful you are my lover! How your eyes shine with love behind your veil. Your hair dance like a flock of goats bounding down the hills of Himalayas. Your teeth are as white as the white mountains of Everest. Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon; how lovely they are when you speak. Your cheeks glow behind your veil. Your neck is like the tower of David, round and smooth, with a necklace like a thousand warriors shields hung around it. Your breasts are like gazelles, twin deer feeding among lilies. I will say on the hill of myrrh, the hill of incense, until the morning breezes blow and the darkness disappears. How beautiful you are my love; how perfect your are! Come with me from the Lebanon Mountains my bride; come with me from Lebanon, come down from the top of mount Amana, from Mount Senir and Mount Hermon. Where the lions and leopards live. They look into your eyes, my sweetheart and bride, and the dress you are wearing has stolen my heart. Your love delights me, my sweetheart and bride. Your love is better than wine; your perfume more fragrant than any spice. The taste of honey is on your lips, my darling; your tongue is milk and honey for me. Your clothing has all the fragrance of Lebanon.
My sweetheart, my bride is a secret garden, a walled garden, a private spring; there the plants flourish. They grow like an orchard of pomegranate trees and bear the finest fruits. There is no lack of henna and nard, of saffron, calamus, and cinnamon, or incense of every kind. Myrrh and aloes grow there with all the most fragrant perfumes. Fountains water the garden, streams of flowing water, brooks gushing down from the Lebanon Mountains.
She is such a warm heat, her body speaks like the waves of the ocean, the sounding waves creates music as it says so, wake up, North Wind. South Wind, blow on my garden; fill the air with fragrance. Let my lover come to his garden and eat the best of its fruit.