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As slices of pomegranate are thy temples within thy locks.

There are sixty queens, and eighty concubines, and virgins without number.

My dove is but one, my perfect one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that brought her into the light. The virgins saw her and called her blessed; yea, the queens and the concubines and they praised her.

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

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