¹Where has your beloved gone, you most beautiful among women?

Where has your beloved turned, that we may seek him with you?

²My beloved has gone down to his garden,

to the beds of spices,

to pasture his flock in the gardens and gather lilies.

³I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.

He browses among the lilies.

⁴You are beautiful as Tirzah, my darling,

lovely as Jerusalem,

as awe-inspiring as an army with banners.

⁵Turn your eyes away from me,

for they have overwhelm me.

Your hair is like a flock of goats,

descending from Mount Gilead.

⁶Your teeth are like a flock of sheep,

coming up from the washing.

Each one has a twin,

not one of them is missing.

⁷Your temples are like a slice of a pomegranate behind your veil.

⁸There are sixty queens, eighty concubines,

and virgins without number.

⁹My dove, my perfect one, is unique.

She is her mother’s only daughter.

She is the favorite one of her who bore her.

The daughters saw her, and called her blessed.

The queens and the concubines also praised her.

¹⁰Who is she that appears like the dawn,

beautiful as the moon,

clear as the sun,

and awe-inspiring as the starts in procession?

¹¹I went down into the grove of nut trees,

to see the blossoms of the valley,

to see whether the vine had budded,

and the pomegranates were in bloom.

¹²Without realizing it,

my desire set me with my royal people’s chariots.

¹³Come back, come back, O Shulammite!

Come back, come back, that we may gaze upon you.

Why do y’all desire to gaze at the Shulammite,

as at the dance of Mahanaim?