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Your temple is like a slice of pomegranate
    behind your veil.
There are sixty queens, eighty concubines,
    and young women beyond number.
Yet my dove, my perfect one is unique.
She is her mother’s only one—
    a virtuous child of the one who bore her.
Maidens saw her and called her blessed.
    Queens and concubines praised her.

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Your temples behind your veil(A)
    are like the halves of a pomegranate.(B)
Sixty queens(C) there may be,
    and eighty concubines,(D)
    and virgins beyond number;
but my dove,(E) my perfect one,(F) is unique,
    the only daughter of her mother,
    the favorite of the one who bore her.(G)
The young women saw her and called her blessed;
    the queens and concubines praised her.

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