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Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor; thy belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.
Thy body is like a round goblet, Wherein no mingled wine is wanting: Thy waist is like a heap of wheat Set about with lilies.
“Your navel is a round goblet Which never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is like a heap of wheat Surrounded with lilies.
Your body is like a round goblet in which no mixed wine is wanting. Your abdomen is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.
Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.
Your navel is a rounded bowl; it never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a mound of wheat surrounded by lilies.
Your navel, cupped like the full moon— may it never lack spiced wine! Your belly is a mound of winnowed wheat edged with lilies.
How beautiful are your feet in sandals, you daughter of princes! The curves of your thighs are like a necklace made by a skilled craftsman.
your navel is a wine glass filled to overflowing. Your body is full and slender like a bundle of wheat bound together by lilies.
Thy navel is a round goblet, [which] wanteth not mixed wine; Thy belly a heap of wheat, set about with lilies;
Thy navel is like a round bowl never wanting cups. Thy belly is like a heap of wheat, set about with lilies.
Your navel is like a round cup; may it never be without wine. Your belly is like a pile of wheat surrounded by lilies.
Your navel is like a round bowl that is always full of good wine. Your stomach is like a round heap of wheat with lilies around the edge.
How beautiful are your feet in sandals, O prince’s daughter! Your hips are curved like a necklace, the work of the hands of a craftsman.
Your navel is a rounded bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.
Your navel is a rounded bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.
Your navel is like a round drinking cup ·always filled with [L that does not lack] wine. Your ·stomach [belly] is like a ·pile [heap] of wheat ·surrounded [bordered] with lilies.
Thy navel is as a round cup that wanteth not liquor: thy belly is as an heap of wheat compassed about with lilies.
Your navel is a round bowl. May it always be filled with spiced wine. Your waist is a bundle of wheat enclosed in lilies.
A bowl is there, that never runs out of spiced wine. A sheaf of wheat is there, surrounded by lilies.
Your navel is a rounded bowl; it never lacks mixed wine. Your waist is a mound of wheat surrounded by lilies.
Your navel is like a round drinking cup always filled with wine. Your stomach is like a pile of wheat with lilies around it like a fence.
Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks mixed wine. Your abdomen is a bundle of wheat, enclosed by lilies.
Thy navel is like a round goblet, which does not lack liquor; thy belly is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.
Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.
Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor: thy belly is like an heap of wheat set about with lilies.
Your navel is like a round basin Which never lacks mixed wine; Your belly is like a heap of wheat Encircled with lilies.
Your navel is a round wine-mixing bowl that does not lack mixed wine! Your belly is a heap of wheat encircled with lilies.
Your navel is lovely as a goblet filled with wine. Your waist is like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.
Shapely and graceful your sandaled feet, and queenly your movement— Your limbs are lithe and elegant, the work of a master artist. Your body is a chalice, wine-filled. Your skin is silken and tawny like a field of wheat touched by the breeze. Your breasts are like fawns, twins of a gazelle. Your neck is carved ivory, curved and slender. Your eyes are wells of light, deep with mystery. Quintessentially feminine! Your profile turns all heads, commanding attention. The feelings I get when I see the high mountain ranges —stirrings of desire, longings for the heights— Remind me of you, and I’m spoiled for anyone else! Your beauty, within and without, is absolute, dear lover, close companion. You are tall and supple, like the palm tree, and your full breasts are like sweet clusters of dates. I say, “I’m going to climb that palm tree! I’m going to caress its fruit!” Oh yes! Your breasts will be clusters of sweet fruit to me, Your breath clean and cool like fresh mint, your tongue and lips like the best wine. Yes, and yours are, too—my love’s kisses flow from his lips to mine. I am my lover’s. I’m all he wants. I’m all the world to him! Come, dear lover— let’s tramp through the countryside. Let’s sleep at some wayside inn, then rise early and listen to bird-song. Let’s look for wildflowers in bloom, blackberry bushes blossoming white, Fruit trees adorned with cascading flowers. And there I’ll give myself to you, my love to your love!
Your navel is a round bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.
Your navel is a round bowl. May it always be filled with spiced wine. Your waist is a bundle of wheat enclosed in lilies.
M How beautiful are your feet in sandals, O noble daughter! Your curving thighs like jewels, the product of skilled hands.
Your navel is like a round goblet That never lacks mixed wine; Your belly is like a heap of wheat, Surrounded with lilies.
“Your navel is like a round goblet Which never lacks mixed wine; Your belly is like a heap of wheat Fenced about with lilies.
Why are you looking at the Shulammite as at a dance of Mahanaim? How beautiful are your feet in sandals, O prince’s daughter. Your rounded thighs are like jewels, the handiwork of a master hand.
Your navel is like a round drinking cup always filled with wine. Your stomach is like a pile of wheat surrounded with lilies.
Your navel is a round mixing bowl— may it never lack mixed wine! Your belly is a mound of wheat, encircled by lilies.
Your navel is like a round bowl that always has mixed wine in it. Your waist is like a mound of wheat surrounded by lilies.
Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks blended wine. Your waist is a mound of wheat encircled by lilies.
Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks blended wine. Your waist is a mound of wheat encircled by lilies.
Your navel is a rounded goblet; It lacks no blended beverage. Your waist is a heap of wheat Set about with lilies.
Your navel is like a beautiful glass full of wine. Your stomach is like gathered grain with lilies around it.
Your navel is perfectly formed like a goblet filled with mixed wine. Between your thighs lies a mound of wheat bordered with lilies.
Your navel is a rounded bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.
Your navel is a rounded bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.
Your navel is a rounded bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.
Your navel is a rounded bowl; may it never lack mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.
Thy navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not wine: thy waist is like a mound of chittim (wheat) encircled by shoshanim (lilies).
“Your navel is as a round cup that does not lack liquor. Your belly is as a heap of wheat surrounded with lilies.
Your navel is a rounded bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.
Your navel is a rounded bowl that never lacks mixed wine. Your belly is a heap of wheat, encircled with lilies.
How lovely are your sandaled feet, O nobleman’s daughter! The curves of your thighs are like jewels, the work of a craftsman’s hand.
Your hidden place is open to me like a goblet, perfect and round, that never runs dry of blended wine; Your waist is a mound of wheat—curved and white and fertile— encircled by lilies.
Your body is like a round goblet, no mixed wine is wanting. Your waist is like a heap of wheat, set about with lilies.
Thy navel is as a round cup, and well-formed, that hath never need to drinks; thy womb is as an heap of wheat, beset about with lilies. (Thy navel is like a round cup, that is well-formed, and never lacketh for drinks; thy belly is like a heap of wheat, surrounded by lilies.)
Thy waist [is] a basin of roundness, It lacketh not the mixture, Thy body a heap of wheat, fenced with lilies,
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