"The girl sings:
He has brought me into the house of wines
and his banner over me is love.
Revive me with raisin cakes,
refresh me with citrons:
I am sick with love!
Catch the little foxes that ravage the vineyards,
our vineyards are in bloom!
The lover responds:
The fig tree puts forth its buds,
and the vines in bloom give off fragrance.
Arise my love, my fair one, and come!
At dawn we shall go down to the vineyards,
we shall see if the vine has budded,
if the flowers are blooming, if the pomegranates are in flower [...]
May your breasts be to me
like clusters of the vine,
the fragrance of your breath
like that of citrons
and your palate like the finest wine
that flows straight to my mouth
and glides over lips and teeth!
More intoxicating than wine is your love. [...]
Kiss me with a kiss of your mouth,
for your breasts are better than wine.[...]
...there I will give you my caresses.
Your womb is a round goblet
where aromatic wine never fails.
(Song of Songs 7, 1-3, 9-10)"
Created by d'Araprì