My beloved is like a dove hiding in the cracks of the rock, in the secret places of the cliff. Show me your face, and let me hear your voice. Your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are like doves. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down Mount Gilead.
but there is only one like my dove, my perfect one. She is her mother’s only daughter, the brightest of the one who gave her birth. The young women saw her and called her happy; the queens and the slave women also praised her.