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The Friends or The Man

How beautiful are your feet in sandals,
    O prince’s daughter!
Your hips are curved like a necklace,
the work of the hands of a craftsman.
Your navel is a round mixing bowl.
It never lacks blended wine.
Your belly is a mound of wheat, encircled by lilies.
Your two breasts are like two fawns,
    twins of a gazelle.

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