Beautiful woman, where has your lover gone? Which way did your lover go? Tell us so that we can help you look for him.

My lover has gone down to his garden, to the flower beds of spices. He went to feed in the gardens and to gather the lilies.

I belong to my lover, and my lover belongs to me. He is the one feeding among the lilies.

My darling, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, as pleasant as Jerusalem, as awesome as the stars in the sky.

Don't look at me! Your eyes excite me too much! And your hair {is long and flowing}, like little goats dancing down the slopes of Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are white like ewes just coming from their bath. They all give birth to twins. Not one of them has lost a baby.

Your cheeks under your veil are like slices of pomegranate.

There might be 60 queens and 80 slave women, and young women too many to count,

but there is only one {woman for me}, my dove, my perfect one. She is the favorite of her mother, her mother's favorite child. The young women see her and praise her. Even the queens and slave women praise her.

Who is that young woman? She shines out like the dawn. She is as pretty as the moon. She is as bright as the sun. She is as awesome as the stars in the sky.

I went down to the grove of walnut trees, to see the fruit of the valley, to see if the vines were in bloom, to see if the pomegranates had budded.

Before I realized it, my soul had placed me in the chariots of the king's people.

Come back, come back, Shulamith! Come back, come back, so we may look at you. Why are you staring at Shulamith, as she dances the Mahanaim dance?