Your teeth are like a flock of newly-shorn sheep coming up from the washing place; ¹  each of them has a twin, and not one of them is missing.

Turn your eyes away from me – they overwhelm ¹  me! Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin; not one of them is missing.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Tell me, O you whom my heart ¹  loves, where do you pasture your sheep? Where do you rest your sheep during the midday heat? Tell me lest ²  I wander around ³  beside the flocks of your companions!

The Lover to His Beloved: Oh, ²  you are beautiful, my darling! ³  Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are like doves. ⁴  Your hair is like a flock of female goats descending ⁵  from Mount Gilead.