To my joyous one in chariots of Pharaoh, I have compared thee, my friend,

Lo, thou art fair, my friend, Lo, thou art fair, thine eyes are doves!

So is my friend among the daughters!

My beloved hath answered and said to me, 'Rise up, my friend, my fair one, and come away,

The fig-tree hath ripened her green figs, And the sweet-smelling vines have given forth fragrance, Rise, come, my friend, my fair one, yea, come away.

Lo, thou art fair, my friend, lo, thou art fair, Thine eyes are doves behind thy veil, Thy hair as a row of the goats That have shone from mount Gilead,

Thou art all fair, my friend, And a blemish there is not in thee. Come from Lebanon, O spouse,

I am sleeping, but my heart waketh: The sound of my beloved knocking! 'Open to me, my sister, my friend, My dove, my perfect one, For my head is filled with dew, My locks with drops of the night.'

His mouth is most sweet: yea, he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

Fair art thou, my friend, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.