Wang Nu, how beautiful your feet are in your shoes. Your thighs are round, like jade, made by the hands of a skilled craftsman.

Your navel is like a round cup, not lacking in blended wine. Your waist is like a pile of wheat, surrounded by lilies.

Your two breasts are like a pair of deer, twins of a mother deer.

Your neck is like an ivory tower. Your eyes are like Heshbon, Batra, and the pool by the door. Your nose seems to face the Tower of Lebanon in Damascus.

Your head is like Mount Carmel on you. The hair on your head is purple black. The king’s heart was tied by this drooping strand of hair.

My beloved, how beautiful you are. How delightful it is to make people happy and joyful.

Your figure is like a palm tree. Your breasts are like fruits on top, drooping profusely.

I said, I want to climb up this palm tree and grab the branches. May your breasts droop like grapes, and the scent of your nose be as fragrant as apples.

Your mouth is like good wine, the woman said, swallowing my beloved with ease, flowing into the mouths of those who sleep.

I am my beloved, and he also admires me.

My beloved, come, we can go to the fields. You and I can stay in the village.

We got up in the morning and went to the vineyard to see if the grapes had sprouted and bloomed, and if the pomegranates had put in their stamens. I will give you my love there.

The eggplant emits fragrance, and inside our door there are all kinds of beautiful fruits, both new and old. My beloved, these are all things I have reserved for you.