I said, ‘I will go to the top of the palm tree. I will take hold of its branches.’ O, may your breasts be like the fruit of the vine, and the sweet smell of your breath like pleasing fruit.
I said, `Let me go up on the palm, Let me lay hold on its boughs, Yea, let thy breasts be, I pray thee, as clusters of the vine, And the fragrance of thy face as citrons,
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