Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. The locks of your hair are like royal tapestries – the king is held captive in its tresses!

His left hand caresses my head, and his right hand stimulates me.

The Beloved about Her Lover: His left hand caresses my head, and his right hand stimulates me.

Come with me from Lebanon, my bride, come with me from Lebanon. Descend from the crest of Amana, from the top of Senir, the summit of Hermon, from the lions’ dens and the mountain haunts of the leopards.

His head is like the most pure gold. His hair is curly – black like a raven.

nard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon with every kind of spice, myrrh and aloes with all the finest spices.

The Beloved about Her Lover: I was asleep, but my mind was dreaming. Listen! My lover is knocking at the door! The Lover to His Beloved: “Open for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one! My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”