O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places of the mountain crags, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
Oh, you are beautiful, my darling! Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are like doves. Your hair is like a flock of female goats descending from Mount Gilead.
But she is unique! My dove, my perfect one! She is the special daughter of her mother, she is the favorite of the one who bore her. The maidens saw her and complimented her; the queens and concubines praised her: