He

4:1 Behold, you are beautiful, my love,
  behold, you are beautiful!
Your eyes are doves
  behind your veil.
Your hair is like a flock of goats
  leaping down the slopes of Gilead.
Your teeth are like a flock of shorn ewes
  that have come up from the washing,
all of which bear twins,
  and not one among them has lost its young.
Your lips are like a scarlet thread,
  and your mouth is lovely.
Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate
  behind your veil.
Your neck is like the tower of David,
  built in rows of stone; [1]
on it hang a thousand shields,
  all of them shields of warriors.
Your two breasts are like two fawns,
  twins of a gazelle,
  that graze among the lilies.
Until the day breathes
  and the shadows flee,
I will go away to the mountain of myrrh
  and the hill of frankincense.
You are altogether beautiful, my love;
  there is no flaw in you.
Come with me from Lebanon, my bride;
  come with me from Lebanon.
Depart [2] from the peak of Amana,
  from the peak of Senir and Hermon,
from the dens of lions,
  from the mountains of leopards.

You have captivated my heart, my sister, my bride;
  you have captivated my heart with one glance of your eyes,
  with one jewel of your necklace.
How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride!
  How much better is your love than wine,
  and the fragrance of your oils than any spice!
Your lips drip nectar, my bride;
  honey and milk are under your tongue;
  the fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
A garden locked is my sister, my bride,
  a spring locked, a fountain sealed.
Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates
  with all choicest fruits,
  henna with nard,
nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon,
  with all trees of frankincense,
myrrh and aloes,
  with all choice spices—
a garden fountain, a well of living water,
  and flowing streams from Lebanon.

Awake, O north wind,
  and come, O south wind!
Blow upon my garden,
  let its spices flow.

She

Let my beloved come to his garden,
  and eat its choicest fruits.

He

5:1 I came to my garden, my sister, my bride,
  I gathered my myrrh with my spice,
  I ate my honeycomb with my honey,
  I drank my wine with my milk.

Others

Eat, friends, drink,
  and be drunk with love!

She

I slept, but my heart was awake.
A sound! My beloved is knocking.
“Open to me, my sister, my love,
  my dove, my perfect one,
for my head is wet with dew,
  my locks with the drops of the night.”
I had put off my garment;
  how could I put it on?
I had bathed my feet;
  how could I soil them?
My beloved put his hand to the latch,
  and my heart was thrilled within me.
I arose to open to my beloved,
  and my hands dripped with myrrh,
my fingers with liquid myrrh,
  on the handles of the bolt.
I opened to my beloved,
  but my beloved had turned and gone.
My soul failed me when he spoke.
I sought him, but found him not;
  I called him, but he gave no answer.
The watchmen found me
  as they went about in the city;
they beat me, they bruised me,
  they took away my veil,
  those watchmen of the walls.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
  if you find my beloved,
that you tell him
  I am sick with love.

Others

What is your beloved more than another beloved,
  O most beautiful among women?
What is your beloved more than another beloved,
  that you thus adjure us?

She

My beloved is radiant and ruddy,
  distinguished among ten thousand.
His head is the finest gold;
  his locks are wavy,
  black as a raven.
His eyes are like doves
  beside streams of water,
bathed in milk,
  sitting beside a full pool. [3]
His cheeks are like beds of spices,
  mounds of sweet-smelling herbs.
His lips are lilies,
  dripping liquid myrrh.
His arms are rods of gold,
  set with jewels.
His body is polished ivory, [4]
  bedecked with sapphires. [5]
His legs are alabaster columns,
  set on bases of gold.
His appearance is like Lebanon,
  choice as the cedars.
His mouth [6] is most sweet,
  and he is altogether desirable.
This is my beloved and this is my friend,
  O daughters of Jerusalem.