Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, that feed among the lilies.
a lovely deer, a graceful doe. May her breasts satisfy you at all times; may you be intoxicated always by her love.
My beloved is to me a bag of myrrh that lies between my breasts.
My beloved is mine, and I am his; he pastures his flock among the lilies.
My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to pasture his flock in the gardens and to gather lilies.
I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine; he pastures his flock among the lilies.
Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle.
Your neck is like an ivory tower. Your eyes are pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim. Your nose is like a tower of Lebanon, overlooking Damascus.
You are stately as a palm tree, and your breasts are like its clusters.
O that you were like a brother to me, who nursed at my mother’s breast! If I met you outside, I would kiss you, and no one would despise me.
I was a wall, and my breasts were like towers; then I was in his eyes as one who brings peace.
Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation—