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Groom’s Praise of His Bride

Oh my![a] You are beautiful, my beloved!
    Oh my![b] You are beautiful!
Your eyes are doves
    from behind your veil.
Your hair is like a flock of goats
    that move down from the mountains of Gilead.
Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes
    that came up from the washing,
all of them bearing twins,
    and there is none bereaved among them.
Your lips are like a thread of crimson,
    and your mouth is lovely.
Your temple is like pomegranate
    from behind your veil.
Your neck is like the tower of David,
    built in courses;
a thousand ornaments[c] are hung on it,
    all the shields of the warriors.
Your two breasts are like two fawns,
    twins of a gazelle that feed among the lilies.
Until the day breathes and the shadows flee,
    I will go to the mountain of the myrrh,
        to the hill of the frankincense.
You are completely beautiful, my beloved!
    You are flawless![d]

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Notas al pie

  1. Song of Solomon 4:1 Literally “Behold!” Or “Look!”
  2. Song of Solomon 4:1 Literally “Behold!” Or “Look!”
  3. Song of Solomon 4:4 Literally “shields”
  4. Song of Solomon 4:7 Literally “There is no flaw in you!”

In praise of her

[Man]

Look at you—so beautiful, my dearest!
Look at you—so beautiful! Your eyes are doves
        behind the veil of your hair!
Your hair is like a flock of goats
        as they stream down Mount Gilead.
Your teeth are like newly shorn ewes
        as they come up from the washing pool—
        all of them perfectly matched,
        not one of them lacks its twin.
Like a crimson ribbon are your lips;
        when you smile, it is lovely.
Like a slice of pomegranate is the curve of your face
        behind the veil of your hair.
Like David’s tower is your neck,
        splendidly built!
A thousand shields are hung upon it—
        all the weapons of the warriors.
Your two breasts are like two fawns,
        twins of a gazelle doe,
        that graze among the lilies.
Before the day breeze blows
        and the shadows flee,
        I will be off to the mountain of myrrh,
        to the hill of frankincense.
You are utterly beautiful, my dearest;
        there’s not a single flaw in you.

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