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Your stately form resembles a date palm,
        and your breasts are like clustered fruit.
I say, “I will climb the palm tree;
        I will hold its fruit!”

May your breasts be now
        like grape clusters,
and the scent of your breath like apples!
        Your palate is like excellent wine . . .

[Woman]

        . . . flowing smoothly for my love,
            gliding through the lips and teeth.[a]

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Footnotes

  1. Song of Solomon 7:9 LXX, Syr, Vulg; MT through the lips of those who sleep; Heb uncertain

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