[1] Whither has your beloved gone, O fairest among women? Whither 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 pasture his flock in the gardens,
and to gather lilies. [3] I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine; he
pastures his flock among the lilies. [4] You are beautiful as Tirzah, my
love, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners. [5] Turn away
your eyes from me, for they disturb me-- Your hair is like a flock of
goats, moving 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 is bereaved. [7] Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate
behind your veil. [8] There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, and
maidens without number. [9] My dove, my perfect one, is only one, the
darling of her mother, flawless to her that bore her. The maidens saw her
and called her happy; the queens and concubines also, and they praised her.
[10] "Who is this that looks forth like the dawn, fair as the moon, bright
as the sun, terrible 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 fancy set me in a chariot beside my prince. [13] Return, return,
O Shu'lammite, return, return, that we may look upon you. Why should you
look upon the Shu'lammite, as upon a dance before two armies?
