Take me to you, and we will go after you: the king has taken me into his house. We will be glad and full of joy in you, we will give more thought to your love than to wine: rightly are they your lovers.

Tell me, thou loved of my soul! Where wilt thou pasture thy flock? Where wilt thou let them recline at noon? For why should I be as one that wrappeth a veil about her, by the flocks of thy companions?

(The Bridegroom)
“If you do not know [where your lover is],
O you fairest among women,
Run along, follow the tracks of the flock,
And pasture your young goats
By the tents of the shepherds.

“Let his left hand be under my head
And his right hand embrace me.”

(The Bridegroom)
“I command that you take an oath, O daughters of Jerusalem,
By the gazelles or by the does of the field [which run free],
That you do not rouse nor awaken my love
Until she pleases.”

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.

Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; Thine eyes are as doves behind thy veil. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, That lie along the side of mount Gilead.

Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, And thy mouth is comely. Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil.

Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.

“O my love, you are altogether beautiful and fair.
There is no flaw nor blemish in you!

Your shoots are a royal garden full of pomegranates with choice fruits: henna with nard,

Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.

I Came to my garden, my sister, O spouse: I gathered my myrrh with my spices; I ate my droppings with my honey; I drank my wine with my milk: Eat, O friends; drink ye, and drink to the full, O beloved ones.

I [was] asleep but my heart was awake. A sound! My beloved knocking! "Open to me, my sister, my beloved, my dove, my perfect one! For my head is full of dew, {my hair drenched from the moist night air}."

I opened for my beloved, but my lover had already turned and gone away. I fell into despair when he departed. I looked for him but did not find him; I called him but he did not answer me.

The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.

His cheeks are like garden beds full of balsam trees yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with drops of myrrh.

“His mouth is full of sweetness.
And he is wholly desirable.
This is my beloved and this is my friend,
O daughters of Jerusalem.”

Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil.

‘Who is this that grows like the dawn,
As beautiful as the full moon,
As pure as the sun,
As awesome as an army with banners?’

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.

(The Chorus)
“Return, return, O Shulammite;
Return, return, that we may gaze at you.”

Your stomach is a store of grain with lilies round it, and in the middle a round cup full of wine.

And your mouth like the best wine!”
“It goes down smoothly for my beloved,
Flowing gently through the lips of those who fall asleep.

The companions are attending to thy voice, Cause me to hear. Flee, my beloved, and be like to a roe,

Flee, my beloved! {Be like a gazelle} or {a young stag} upon {the perfumed mountains}!