Tell me, O you whom my soul loves, where you feed, where you make your flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turns aside by the flocks of your companions?

If you know not, O you fairest among women, go your way forth in the footsteps of the flock, and feed your kids beside the shepherds' tents.

My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feeds his flock among the lilies.

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, which feed among the lilies.

My beloved has gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed his flock in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: he feeds his flock among the lilies.