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1 Where has your beloved gone, O you most beautiful among women? Where has your beloved turned, That we may seek him with you?
2 My beloved has gone down to his garden, To the beds of spices, To feed in the gardens And gather lilies.
3 I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine; He pastures his flock among the lilies.
4 You are as beautiful, my love, as Tirzah, As lovely as Jerusalem, As terrible as an army with banners.
5 Turn your eyes away from me, For they overwhelm me, Your hair is like a flock of goats That repose on Mount Gilead.
6 Your teeth are like a flock of ewes That have come up from the washing, All of which have borne twins, And none of them is bereaved of her young.
7 Your cheeks are like a piece of pomegranate Behind your veil.
8 There are sixty queens and eighty concubines And virgins without number.
9 My dove, my perfect one, is but one; She is the only one of her mother; She is the choice one of her who bore her. The daughters saw her, and they called her blessed; The queens and the concubines, They also praised her.
10 Who is this woman who looks forth like the dawn, As beautiful as the moon, As clear as the sun, As terrible as an army with banners?
11 I went down to the orchard of nuts To see the freshness of the valley, To see whether the vine had budded, Whether the pomegranates were in bloom.
12 Before I was aware, My soul set me among the chariots of my noble people.
13 Return, return, O Shulammite; Return, return, that we may gaze at you. Why should you gaze at the Shulammite, As upon the dance of two camps?