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your cheeks are like halves
    of a pomegranate behind your veil.
There are sixty queens
    and eighty concubines,
    and virgins without number.
My dove, my perfect one, is the only one,
    the only one of her mother,
    choice to her who bore her.
The maidens saw her and called her blessed;
    the queens and concubines also, and they praised her.

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