The words of my beloved are as honey in my mouth
As fruit soaked in pure water, so are the curves of your smile
I wonder with great delight at the beauty of your lips
With the excellence of your speech, which causes those asleep to speak.
The sun rises in the morning and the shadows flee away
It illuminates your face upon the bed where you lay
A blessed morning it is, yes, and a blessed day it shall be
For your grace furnishes our surroundings and causes all things to breathe
The stones worship you, yes even the doves in the clefts of the rocks
The moon gossips with the sun as the wind brushes your locks
Surely nature testifies of your beauty before the world was
and all things have meaning once they make you the centre of their lives
I am my beloveds, and my beloved is mine
When making every portion of you, yes the Lord took His time.
Спасибо за чтение!
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