8 If thou knowest not, O fair among women, Get thee forth by the traces of the flock, And feed thy kids by the shepherds` dwellings!
9 To my joyous one in chariots of Pharaoh, I have compared thee, my friend,
10 Comely have been thy cheeks with garlands, Thy neck with chains.
11 Garlands of gold we do make for thee, With studs of silver!
12 While the king [is] in his circle, My spikenard hath given its fragrance.
13 A bundle of myrrh [is] my beloved to me, Between my breasts it lodgeth.
14 A cluster of cypress [is] my beloved to me, In the vineyards of En-Gedi!
