thou art fair

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth
For thy love is better than vine
His fruits was sweet to my taste
His left hand is under my head
And his right hand doth embrace me
Behold, thou art fair my love
Behold, thou art fair
Thy lips are like thread of scarlet
Thy eyes are as doves behind the veil
And comely is thy mouth
Thy two breasts are like forns feeding among the lilies
Thy navel is like a round goblet
Wherein no mingled wine is wanting
Thy belly is like a heap of wheat, set about with lilies
Let thy breasts be as clusters on the vine
And thy mouth like the best wine
Open to me my dove, for my head is filled with the drop of the night
Come my beloved
Let us see if the vines flourishes and the tender grapes appear
And the pomegranates bud forth…