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11 Your lips, O my [promised] bride, drop honey as the honeycomb; honey and milk are under your tongue. And the odor of your garments is like the odor of Lebanon.

12 A garden enclosed and barred is my sister, my [promised] bride—a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.

13 Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates or a paradise with precious fruits, henna with spikenard plants,(A)

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