3 Your red lips are like a bright thread, and your mouth is fair of form; the sides of your head are like pomegranate fruit under your veil.
4 Your neck is like the tower of David made for a store-house of arms, in which a thousand breastplates are hanging, breastplates for fighting-men.
5 Your two breasts are like two young roes of the same birth, which take their food among the lilies.
6 Till the evening comes, and the sky slowly becomes dark, I will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
7 You are all fair, my love; there is no mark on you.
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