[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?
