Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? whither is thy beloved turned aside? that we may seek him with thee.

Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Which way has he turned? We will seek him with you.

My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to pasture his flock in the gardens and to gather lilies.

I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine: he feedeth among the lilies.

I belong to my beloved and he belongs to me; he pastures his flock among the lilies.

Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.

You are as beautiful, my darling, as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as majestic as troops with banners.

Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me: thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead.

Turn your eyes away from me, for they have overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down from Gilead.

Thy teeth are as a flock of sheep which go up from the washing, whereof every one beareth twins, and there is not one barren among them.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin, and not one of them is lost.

As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples within thy locks.

Your brow behind your veil is like a slice of pomegranate.

There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and virgins without number.

There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, and maidens without number,

My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.

but my dove, my perfect one, is unique, the favorite of the mother who bore her. The maidens see her and call her blessed; the queens and concubines sing her praises.

Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?

Who is this who shines like the dawn, as fair as the moon, as bright as the sun, as majestic as the stars in procession?

I went down into the garden of nuts to see the fruits of the valley, and to see whether the vine flourished, and the pomegranates budded.

I went down to the walnut grove to see the blossoms of the valley, to see if the vines were budding or the pomegranates were in bloom.

Or ever I was aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib.

Before I realized it, my desire had set me among the royal chariots of my people.

Return, return, O Shulamite; return, return, that we may look upon thee. What will ye see in the Shulamite? As it were the company of two armies.

Come back, come back, O Shulammite! Come back, come back, that we may gaze upon you. Why do you look at the Shulammite, as on the dance of Mahanaim?