1 ¶ Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Which way has your beloved turned? So that we may look for him with you.

2 My beloved has gone down into 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 feeds among the lilies.

4 ¶ You are beautiful, O my love, like Tirzah, lovely like Jerusalem, awe-inspiring as an army with banners.

5 Turn away your eyes from me, for they captivate me: your hair is like a flock of goats coming down from Gilead.

6 Your teeth are like a flock of sheep which come up from the washing, each one having a twin, and not one missing among them.

7 Your brow is like a slice of pomegranate within your locks.

8 There are sixty queens, and eighty concubines, and virgins without number.

9 But my dove, my undefiled is unique; she is the only one of her mother, she is kind to the one who bore her. Women see her, and declare her fortunate; yea, the queens and concubines also, and they praise her.

10 Who is she who shines forth like the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and awe-inspiring as an army with banners?

11 ¶ I went down into the garden of nuts to look at the blossoms in the valley, and to see if the grapevine had budded, and the pomegranates were in bloom.

12 Before I was aware of it, my fancy set me in a chariot beside my prince.

13 Return, return, O Shulamite; return, return, so that we may look at you. Why do you stare at the Shulamite, As if she were a dancer from Mahanaim?