Chorus to Bride: What kind of beloved is your beloved, O most beautiful among women? What kind of beloved is your beloved, so that you would bind us by oath?
Groom to Bride: I have arrived in my garden, O my sister, my spouse. I have harvested my myrrh, with my aromatic oils. I have eaten the honeycomb with my honey. I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink, and be inebriated, O most beloved.
Your neck is like a tower of ivory. Your eyes like the fish ponds at Heshbon, which are at the entrance to the daughter of the multitude. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon, which looks out toward Damascus.
I watched until thrones were set up, and the ancient of days sat down. His garment was radiant like snow, and the hair of his head like clean wool; his throne was flames of fire, its wheels had been set on fire.