Your teeth are like a flock of ewes that have come up from the washing; all of them bear twins, and not one among them is bereaved.
Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes that have come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and not one among them is bereaved.
Turn away your eyes from me, for they overwhelm me! Your hair is like a flock of goats, moving down the slopes of Gilead.
Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate behind your veil.
And seeing a fig tree by the side of the road, he went to it and found nothing at all on it but leaves. Then he said to it, “May no fruit ever come from you again!” And the fig tree withered at once.
As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’