Your temples behind your veil
    are like the halves of a pomegranate.
Sixty queens there may be,
    and eighty concubines,
    and virgins beyond number;
but my dove, my perfect one, is unique,
    the only daughter of her mother,
    the favourite of the one who bore her.
The young women saw her and called her blessed;
    the queens and concubines praised her.

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