Your stately form is like the palm,
Your breasts are like clusters.
I say: Let me climb the palm,
Let me take hold of its branches;
Let your breasts be like clusters of grapes,
Your breath like the fragrance of apples,
And your mouth like choicest wine.
“Let it flow to my beloved as new wine
Gliding over the lips of sleepers.” - Chapter 7:8-10
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