Tell me, you whom I love, where you graze your flock and where you rest your sheep at midday. Why should I be like a veiled woman beside the flocks of your friends?
If you do not know, most beautiful of women, follow the tracks of the sheep and graze your young goats by the tents of the shepherds.
I liken you, my darling, to a mare among Pharaoh’s chariot horses.
Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings, your neck with strings of jewels.
We will make you earrings of gold, studded with silver.
While the king was at his table, my perfume spread its fragrance.
My beloved is to me a sachet of myrrh resting between my breasts.