O rarest of beautiful women, where has your lover gone? We will help you find him.
He has gone down to his garden, to his spice beds, to graze and to gather the lilies.
I am my lovers, and my lover is mine. He grazes among the lilies!
O my beloved, you are as beautiful as the lovely town of Tirzah. Yes, as beautiful as Jerusalem! You are as majestic as an army with banners!
Look away, for your eyes overcome me! Your hair falls in waves, like a flock of goats frisking down the slopes of Gilead.
Your teeth are as white as newly washed sheep. They are perfectly matched; not one is missing.
Your cheeks behind your veil are like pomegranate halves--lovely and delicious.
There may be sixty wives, all queens, and eighty concubines and unnumbered virgins available to me.
But I would still choose my dove, my perfect one, the only beloved daughter of her mother! The young women are delighted when they see her; even queens and concubines sing her praises!
`Who is this, they ask, `arising like the dawn, as fair as the moon, as bright as the sun, as majestic as an army with banners?
"I went down into the grove of nut trees and out to the valley to see the new growth brought on by spring. I wanted to see whether the grapevines were budding yet, or whether the pomegranates were blossoming.
Before I realized it, I found myself in my princely bed with my beloved one. "
Return, return to us, O maid of Shulam. Come back, come back, that we may see you once again. Why do you gaze so intently at this young woman of Shulam, as she moves so gracefully between two lines of dancers?