1 As the chorus of 'Mahanaim.' How beautiful were thy feet with sandals, O daughter of Nadib. The turnings of thy sides 'are' as ornaments, Work of the hands of an artificer.
2 Thy waist 'is' a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
3 Thy two breasts as two young ones, twins of a roe,
Share this page