By night on my bed, I sought him whom my soul loves. I sought him, but I didn't find him.
I will get up now, and go about the city; In the streets and in the squares I will seek him whom my soul loves. I sought him, but I didn't find him.
The watchmen who go about the city found me; "Have you seen him whom my soul loves?"
I had scarcely passed from them, When I found him whom my soul loves. I held him, and would not let him go, Until I had brought him into my mother's house, Into the chamber of her who conceived me.
I adjure you, daughters of Yerushalayim, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That you not stir up, nor awaken love, Until it so desires.
Who is this who comes up from the wilderness like pillars of smoke, Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, With all spices of the merchant?
Behold, it is Shlomo's carriage! Sixty mighty men are around it, Of the mighty men of Yisra'el.
They all handle the sword, and are expert in war. Every man has his sword on his thigh, Because of fear in the night.
King Shlomo made himself a carriage Of the wood of Levanon.
He made its pillars of silver, Its bottom of gold, its seat of purple, Its midst being paved with love, From the daughters of Yerushalayim.
Go forth, you daughters of Tziyon, and see king Shlomo, With the crown with which his mother has crowned him, In the day of his weddings, In the day of the gladness of his heart. Lover