Thou shalt not see me, I am black; the sun searched me: my mother's sons were angry with me; they set me to watch the vineyards; my vineyard I watched not for me.

To my mares in Pharaoh's chariots I likened thee, O my neighbor.

As the lily between thorns, so is my friend between the daughters.

As the apple among the trees of the forest, so my beloved between the sons. In his shadow I delighted, and I sat down, and his fruit was sweet to my palate.

My dove in the refuges of the rock, in the biding of the steep mountain: cause me to see thy form, cause me to hear thy voice; for thy voice is sweet and thy form becoming.

They watching going about in the city, found me: Saw ye him that my soul loved?

As a little I passed from them till I found him my soul loved: I held him fast, and I shall not let him go till I brought him into my mother's house, and to the chamber of her conceiving me.

She is one, my dove, my perfect one; she is one to her mother, she is the chosen to her bearing her. The daughters saw her and pronounced her happy; the queens and the concubines, and they will praise her.

I went down into the garden of nuts to look upon the greens of the valley, to see whether the vine was fruitful, whether the pomegranates blossomed.

Turn back, turn back, thou Shulamite; turn back, turn back, and we will look upon thee. What will ye see in the Shulamite? As the stringed instrument of the camps.

We will rise early to the vineyards; we will see if the vine was fruitful, the vine blossoms opened, the pomegranates blossomed: there will I give my beloved to thee.