1 Whither hath thy beloved gone, O fair among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned, And we seek him with thee?
2 My beloved went down to his garden, To the beds of the spice, To delight himself in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
3 I
4 Fair
5 Turn round thine eyes from before me, Because they have made me proud. Thy hair
6 Thy teeth as a row of the lambs, That have come up from the washing, Because all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them.
7 As the work of the pomegranate
8 Sixty are queens, and eighty concubines, And virgins without number.
9 One is my dove, my perfect one, One she
10 `Who
11 Unto a garden of nuts I went down, To look on the buds of the valley, To see whither the vine had flourished, The pomegranates had blossomed--
12 I knew not my soul, It made me--chariots of my people Nadib.
13 Return, return, O Shulammith! Return, return, and we look upon thee. What do ye see in Shulammith?
Young's Literal Translation (YLT). Public Domain.