[1] Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Which way has he turned? We will seek him with you.
[2] My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to pasture his flock in the gardens and to gather lilies.
[3] I belong to my beloved and he belongs to me; he pastures his flock among the lilies.
[4] You are as beautiful, my darling, as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as majestic as troops with banners.
[5] Turn your eyes away from me, for they have overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down from Gilead.
[6] Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin, and not one of them is lost.
[7] Your brow behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.
[8] There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, and maidens without number,
[9] but my dove, my perfect one, is unique, the favorite of the mother who bore her. The maidens see her and call her blessed; the queens and concubines sing her praises.
[10] Who is this who shines like the dawn, as fair as the moon, as bright as the sun, as majestic as the stars in procession?
[11] I went down to the walnut grove to see the blossoms of the valley, to see if the vines were budding or the pomegranates were in bloom.
[12] Before I realized it, my desire had set me among the royal chariots of my people.
[13] Come back, come back, O Shulammite! Come back, come back, that we may gaze upon you. Why do you look at the Shulammite, as on the dance of Mahanaim ?