[1] Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Where has your beloved turned, that we may seek him with you?
[2] My beloved has gone down to his garden to the beds of spices, to graze in the gardens and to gather lilies.
[3] I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine; he grazes among the lilies.
[4] You are beautiful as Tirzah, my love, lovely as Jerusalem, awesome as an army with banners.
[5] Turn away your eyes from me, for they overwhelm me— Your hair is like a flock of goats leaping down the slopes of Gilead.
[6] Your teeth are like a flock of ewes that have come up from the washing; all of them bear twins; not one among them has lost its young.
[7] Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate behind your veil.
[8] There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, and virgins without number.
[9] My dove, my perfect one, is the only one, the only one of her mother, pure to her who bore her. The young women saw her and called her blessed; the queens and concubines also, and they praised her.
[10] “Who is this who looks down like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, awesome as an army with banners?”
[11] I went down to the nut orchard to look at the blossoms of the valley, to see whether the vines had budded, whether the pomegranates were in bloom.
[12] Before I was aware, my desire set me among the chariots of my kinsman, a prince.
[13] Return, return, O Shulammite, return, return, that we may look upon you. Why should you look upon the Shulammite, as upon a dance before two armies?