The Lover to His Beloved: My darling, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, ¹  as lovely as Jerusalem, ²  as awe-inspiring ³  as bannered armies!

Your lips are like a scarlet thread; ¹  your mouth is lovely. Your forehead ²  behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.

The Lover to His Beloved: O my dove, ¹  in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places of the mountain crags, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.