Song Of Songs 6

“You are the most beautiful woman of all.
    Where has the one who loves you gone?
Which way did he turn?
    We’ll help you look for him.”

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

“My love has gone down to his garden.
    He’s gone to the beds of spices.
He’s eating in the gardens.
    He’s gathering lilies.

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

I belong to my love, and he belongs to me.
    He’s eating among the lilies.”

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

“My love, you are as beautiful as the city of Tirzah.
    You are as lovely as Jerusalem.
    You are as majestic as troops carrying their banners.

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

Turn your eyes away from me.
    They overpower me.
Your hair flows like a flock of black goats
    coming down from the hills of Gilead.

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

Your teeth are as clean as a flock of sheep
    coming up from being washed.
Each of your teeth has its twin.
    Not one of them is missing.

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 cheeks behind your veil
    are like the halves of a pomegranate.

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

There might be 60 queens and 80 concubines.
    There might be more virgins than anyone can count.

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

But you are my perfect dove.
    There isn’t anyone like you.
    You are your mother’s favorite daughter.
The young women see you and call you blessed.
    The queens and concubines praise you.”

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.

“Who is this woman?
    She is like the sunrise in all its glory.
She is as beautiful as the moon.
    She is as bright as the sun.
    She is as majestic as the stars traveling across the sky.”

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

“I went down to a grove of nut trees.
    I wanted to look at the new plants growing in the valley.
I wanted to find out whether the vines had budded.
    I wanted to see if the pomegranate trees had bloomed.

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.

Before I realized it,
    I was among the royal chariots of my people.”

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

“Come back to us.
    Come back, Shulammite woman.
Come back to us.
    Come back. Then we can look at you.”