Song of Solomon 6
1 So where has your love gone, most beautiful of women? Which direction did he go so we can look for him with you?
Whither is thy friend gone, O fairest of women? whither hath thy friend turned himself? that we may seek him with thee?—
2 My love has gone down to his garden, to his flowerbeds of spices. He enjoys feeding in the gardens and plucks lilies.
My beloved is gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.
3 I am my love's, and my love is mine! He is the one who feeds among the lilies.
I am my friend's, and my friend is mine: he that feedeth among the lilies.—
4 You are beautiful, my darling, as pretty as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem—you look stunning!
Thou art beautiful, O my beloved, like Thirzah, comely like Jerusalem, terrible as armies encamped round their banners.
5 Please turn your eyes away from me—they're driving me insane! Your hair flows down like a flock of goats descending Mount Gilead.
Turn away thy eyes from me, for they have excited me: thy hair is like a flock of goats that come quietly down from mount Gil'ad.
6 Your teeth are as white as a flock of sheep that are just shorn and washed. None of them are missing—they are all perfectly matched!
Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes which are come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and there is not one among them that is deprived of her young.
7 Your cheeks are the blushing color of pomegranates behind your veil.
Like the half of the pomegranate is the upper part of thy cheek behind thy vail.
8 There may be sixty queens and eighty concubines, and countless more women,
Sixty are the queens, and eighty the concubines, and the young women without number;
9 but my love, my perfect love, she's the only one! She's her mother's favorite, special to the one who gave birth to her. Young women see her and say how lucky she is; queens and concubines sing her praises.
But one alone is my dove, my guiltless one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the chosen of her that bore her: maidens see her, and call her happy; yea, queens and concubines, and praise her.
10 Who is this who is like the dawn shining down from above, beautiful as the moon, bright as the shining sun? You look stunning!
Who is this that shineth forth like the morning-dawn, beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as armies encamped round their banners?
11 I went down to the walnut orchard to see if the trees were in leaf in the valley, to find out whether the grapevines had budded or the pomegranates were in bloom.
Into the nut-garden was I gone down, to look about among the plants of the valley, to see whether the vine had blossomed, whether the pomegranates had budded.
12 I was so excited it was like I was riding in a royal chariot.
I knew not [how it was], my soul made me [like] the chariots of my noble people.
13 Come back, come back, Shulammite woman; come back, come back, so we can look at you! Woman: Why do you want to look at the Shulammite dancing the dance of two camps?
Return, return, O Shulammith; return, return, that we may look upon thee. “What will ye see in the Shulammith?” As though it were the dance of a double company.
