“My beloved has gone down to his garden, To the beds of spices, To shepherd his flock in the gardens And gather lilies.

“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine, He who shepherds his flock among the lilies.”

“You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my darling, As lovely as Jerusalem, As majestic as an army with banners.

“Turn your eyes away from me, For they have overwhelmed me; Your hair is like a flock of goats That have leapt down from Gilead.

“Your teeth are like a flock of ewes Which have come up from their washing, All of which bear twins, And not one among them has lost her young.

“Your temples are like a slice of a pomegranate Behind your veil.

“There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, And maidens without number;

She is the only one—my dove, my perfect one; She is the only one of her mother; She is the pure one of her who bore her. The daughters saw her and called her blessed, The queens and the concubines also, and they praised her, saying,

‘Who is this that looks down like the dawn, As beautiful as the full moon, As pure as the sun, As majestic as an army with banners?’

“I went down to the garden of nut trees To see the blossoms of the valley, To see whether the vine had flourished Or the pomegranates had bloomed.

“I did not know it, but my soul set me Among the chariots of my noble people.”

“ Come back, come back, O Shulammite; Come back, come back, that we may behold you!” “Why should you behold the Shulammite, As at the dance of the two companies?