Where has your love gone, most beautiful of women? Which way has he turned? We will seek him with you.
My love has gone down to his garden, to beds of spice, to feed in the gardens and gather lilies.
I am my love's and my love is mine; he feeds among the lilies.
You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my darling, lovely as Jerusalem, awe-inspiring as an army with banners.
Turn your eyes away from me, for they captivate me. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down from Gilead.
Your teeth are like a flock of ewes coming up from washing, each one having a twin, and not one missing.
Behind your veil, your brow is like a slice of pomegranate.
There are 60 queens and 80 concubines and young women without number.
But my dove, my virtuous one, is unique; she is the favorite of her mother, perfect to the one who gave her birth. Women see her and declare her fortunate; queens and concubines also, and they sing her praises:
Who is thiswho shines like the dawn- as beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, awe-inspiring as an army with banners?
I came down to the walnut grove to see the blossoms of the valley, to see if the vines were budding and the pomegranates blooming.
Before I knew it, my desire put me [among] the chariots of my noble people.
Come back, come back, Shulammite! Come back, come back, that we may look at you! Why are you looking at the Shulammite, as you [look] at the dance of the two camps?