“Tell me, O you whom my soul loves,
Where do you pasture your flock,
Where do you make it lie down at noon?
For why should I be like one who veils herself
Beside the flocks of your companions?”

“On my bed night after night I sought him
Whom my soul loves;
I sought him but did not find him.

‘I must arise now and go about the city;
In the streets and in the squares
I must seek him whom my soul loves.’
I sought him but did not find him.

“The watchmen who make the rounds in the city found me,
And I said, ‘Have you seen him whom my soul loves?’

“Scarcely had I left them
When I found him whom my soul loves;
I held on to him and would not let him go
Until I had brought him to my mother’s house,
And into the room of her who conceived me.”

“The watchmen who make the rounds in the city found me,
They struck me and wounded me;
The guardsmen of the walls took away my shawl from me.

“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine,
He who pastures his flock among the lilies.”

But my dove, my perfect one, is unique:
She is her mother’s only daughter;
She is the pure child of the one who bore her.
The maidens saw her and called her blessed,
The queens and the concubines also, and they praised her, saying,

‘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?’

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

“Oh that you were like a brother to me
Who nursed at my mother’s breasts.
If I found you outdoors, I would kiss you;
No one would despise me, either.

“I would lead you and bring you
Into the house of my mother, who used to instruct me;
I would give you spiced wine to drink from the juice of my pomegranates.

“Who is this coming up from the wilderness
Leaning on her beloved?”
“Beneath the apple tree I awakened you;
There your mother was in labor with you,
There she was in labor and gave you birth.

“I was a wall, and my breasts were like towers;
Then I became in his eyes as one who finds peace.

“My very own vineyard is at my disposal;
The thousand shekels are for you, Solomon,
And two hundred are for those who take care of its fruit.”

“O you who sit in the gardens,
My companions are listening for your voice—
Let me hear it!”