Behold, so many retreat to their own way, Yet You say, "Thou art fair, my love." Behold, Your way is despised, Yet You say, "Thou art fair." You say, "Thou hast doves’ eyes within thy locks," but Our eyes consume everything except Your word. You say, "Thy hair is as a flock of goats," but We maintain our vain-beauty for ourselves. Redeem us to be Your flock that appear from mount Gilead.
Song 4.1 |You Say
