Sarah, she is the rose of Sharon, a lily of the valley among the thorns, the fairest among women, with lips like a thread of scarlet. She has ravished my heart, her love is sweeter than wine. My Sarah, she is fairer than the moon, more brilliant than the sun. You are my fountain of gardens, a well of living waters.
Sarah, you are my woman of valour, your price is far above rubies. I entrust my heart and soul to you. You weave garments from wool and flax. You create for us from the fruits of the garden. You plough the fields and plant them with vineyards. You leave the corners of the fields for those in need. You reach out to the lonely and the elderly.
You are a blessing to the family. You are my strength in times of despair and joy in time of sorrow. You bring honour to the household and speak with wisdom from your lips. Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain. But you, dear Sarah, you are my beloved, and you, my beloved, are mine.
