רַעְיָה

I compare you, my darling, to a mare among Pharaoh’s chariots.

How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how very beautiful! Your eyes are like doves.

Like a lily among the thorns is my darling among the maidens.

My beloved calls to me, “Arise, my darling. Come away with me, my beautiful one.

The fig tree ripens its figs; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come away, my darling; come away with me, my beautiful one.”

How beautiful you are, my darling—how very beautiful! Your eyes are like doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down Mount Gilead.

You are altogether beautiful, my darling; in you there is no flaw.

I sleep, but my heart is awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”

You are as beautiful, my darling, as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as majestic as troops with banners.