Tell me, O thou whom my soul loves, where thou feed [thy flock], where thou make [it] to rest at noon. For why should I be as she who is veiled beside the flocks of thy companions?

O my dove, who are in the clefts of the rock, in the covert of the steep place, let me see thy countenance; let me hear thy voice. For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.

By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loves. I sought him, but I did not find him.

[I said], I will rise now, and go around the city. In the streets and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loves. I sought him, but I did not find him.

The watchmen who go about the city found me. [I said], Did ye see him whom my soul loves?

It was but a little that I passed from them when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him, and would not let him go until I had brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her who conceived me.

Who is this who comes up from the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all powders of the merchant?

My dove, my undefiled, 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 called her blessed, [yea], the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.

Who is she who looks forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, sublime as an army with banners?

Oh that thou were as my brother, who sucked the breasts of my mother! [When] I should find thee outside, I would kiss thee. Yes, and none would despise me.

I would lead thee, [and] bring thee into my mother's house, who would instruct me. I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, of the juice of my pomegranate.

Who is this who comes up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple tree I awoke thee. There thy mother was in travail with thee. There she who brought thee forth was in travail.

I am a wall, and my breasts like the towers. Then I was in his eyes as one who found peace.

My vineyard, which is mine, is before me. Thou, O Solomon, shall have the thousand, and those who keep the fruit of it, two hundred.

Thou who dwell in the gardens, the companions hearken for thy voice. Cause me to hear it.