Tell me, you, the one I love:
Where do you pasture your sheep?
Where do you let them rest at noon?
Why should I be like one who veils herself
beside the flocks of your companions?

The guards who go about the city found me.
I asked them, “Have you seen the one I love?”

I had just passed them
when I found the one I love.
I held on to him and would not let him go
until I brought him to my mother’s house—
to the chamber of the one who conceived me.

The guards who go about the city found me.
They beat and wounded me;
they took my cloak from me—
the guardians of the walls.

But my dove, my virtuous one, is unique;
she is the favorite of her mother,
perfect to the one who gave her birth.
Women see her and declare her fortunate;
queens and concubines also, and they sing her praises:

Y Who is this who shines like the dawn—
as beautiful as the moon,
bright as the sun,
awe-inspiring as an army with banners?

If only I could treat you like my brother,
one who nursed at my mother’s breasts,
I would find you in public and kiss you,
and no one would scorn me.

I would lead you, I would take you,
to the house of my mother who taught me.
I would give you spiced wine to drink
from my pomegranate juice.

Y Who is this coming up from the wilderness,
leaning on the one she loves?

W I awakened you under the apricot tree.
There your mother conceived you;
there she conceived and gave you birth.

W I am a wall
and my breasts like towers.
So in his eyes I have become
like one who finds peace.

I have my own vineyard.
The 1,000 are for you, Solomon,
but 200 for those who guard its fruits.

M You who dwell in the gardens—
companions are listening for your voice—
let me hear you!