2My beloved has gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to browse in the gardens, and gather lilies. 3I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine. He browses among the lilies.

4You art as beautiful as Tirzah, O my love, as lovely as Jerusalem, as majestic as an army with banners. 5Turn your eyes from me, for they overwhelm me; your hair is as a flock of goats descending from Gilead. 6Your teeth are as a flock of sheep coming go up from the washing, each tooth has a matching twin, and there are none missing among them. 7 Your cheeks are like rosy pomegranates behind your veil.

8There are sixty queens, eighty concubines, and virgins beyond numbering. 9But my dove, my perfect one, is unique. She is the only daughter of her mother; she is the favorite of her who bore her. The young women saw her, and blessed her; yea, the queens and the concubines also praised her.

10Who is she who appears like the dawn, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, and as majestic as stars in procession?

11I went down into the grove of nut trees to see the new growth in the valley, and to see whether the vine had budded, or if the pomegranates were in bloom. 12Before I realized it, my desires took me like the chariots of Amminadib.

13Come back, come back, O Shulamite; come back, come back, that we may gaze upon you. Why do you stare at the Shulamite, as she moves so gracefully between two lines of dancers?