1 Where is your beloved gone, O you fairest among women? where is your beloved turned aside? that we may seek him with you.
2 My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
3 I am my beloved', and my beloved is mine: he feeds among the lilies.
4 You are beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.
5 Turn away your eyes from me, for they have overcome me: your hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead.
6 Your teeth are as a flock of sheep which go up from the washing, whereof every one bears twins, and there is not one barren among them.
7 As a piece of a pomegranate are your temples within your locks.
8 There are three score queens, and fourscore concubines, and virgins without number.
9 My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yes, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.
10 Who is she that looks forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?
11 I went down into the garden of nuts to see the fruits of the valley, and to see whether the vine flourished and the pomegranates budded.
12 Or ever I was aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib.
13 Return, return, O Shulamite; return, return, that we may look on you. What will you see in the Shulamite? As it were the company of two armies.
1 Whither is thy beloved gone,
O thou fairest among women?
Whither hath thy beloved turned him,
That we may seek him with thee?
2 My beloved is gone down to his garden,
To the beds of spices,
To feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
3 I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine;
He feedeth his flock among the lilies,
4 Thou art fair, O my love, as Tirzah,
Comely as Jerusalem,
Terrible as an army with banners.
5 Turn away thine eyes from me,
For they have overcome me.
Thy hair is as a flock of goats,
That lie along the side of Gilead.
6 Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes,
Which are come up from the washing;
Whereof every one hath twins,
And none is bereaved among them.
7 Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate
Behind thy veil.
8 There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines,
And virgins without number.
9 My dove, my undefiled, is but one;
She is the only one of her mother;
She is the choice one of her that bare her.
The daughters saw her, and called her blessed;
Yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.
10 Who is she that looketh forth as the morning,
Fair as the moon,
Clear as the sun,
Terrible as an army with banners?
11 I went down into the garden of nuts,
To see the green plants of the valley,
To see whether the vine budded,
And the pomegranates were in flower.
12 Before I was aware, my soul set me
Among the chariots of my princely people.
13 Return, return, O Shulammite;
Return, return, that we may look upon thee.
Why will ye look upon the Shulammite,
As upon the dance of Mahanaim?