Song of Songs 6

1 Whither is your kinsman gone, you beautiful among women? whither has your kinsman turned aside? [tell us], and we will seek him with you.

To where has your beloved gone, O beautiful among women? To where has your beloved turned, And we seek him with you?

2 My kinsman is gone down to his garden, to the beds of spice, to feed [his flock] in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

My beloved went down to his garden, To the beds of the spice, To delight himself in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

3 I am my kinsman's, and my kinsman is mine, who feeds among the lilies.

I [am] my beloved’s, and my beloved [is] mine, Who is delighting himself among the lilies.

4 You are fair, my companion, as Pleasure, beautiful as Jerusalem, terrible as [armies] set in array.

You [are] beautiful, my friend, as Tirzah, lovely as Jerusalem, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts.

5 Turn away your eyes from before me, for they have ravished me: your hair is as flocks of goats which have appeared from Galaad.

Turn around your eyes from before me, Because they have made me proud. Your hair [is] as a row of the goats, That have shone from Gilead,

6 Your teeth are as flocks of shorn [sheep], that have gone up from the washing, all of them bearing twins, and there is none barren among them: your lips are as a thread of scarlet, and your speech is comely.

Your teeth as a row of the lambs, That have come up from the washing, Because all of them are forming twins, And a bereaved one is not among them.

7 Your cheek is like the rind of a pomegranate, [being seen] without your veil.

As the work of the pomegranate [is] your temple behind your veil.

8 There are sixty queens, and eighty concubines, and maidens without number.

Sixty are queens, and eighty concubines, And virgins without number.

9 My dove, my perfect one is one; she is the [only] one of her mother; she is the choice of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and the queens will pronounce her blessed, yes, and the concubines, and they will praise her.

One is my dove, my perfect one, She [is] one of her mother, She [is] the choice one of her that bore her, Daughters saw, and pronounce her blessed, Queens and concubines, and they praise her.

10 Who is this that looks forth as the morning, fair as the moon, choice as the sun, terrible as [armies] set in array?

“Who [is] this that is looking forth as morning, Beautiful as the moon—clear as the sun, Awe-inspiring as bannered hosts?”

11 I went down to the garden of nuts, to look at the fruits of the valley, to see if the vine flowered, [if] the pomegranates blossomed.

To a garden of nuts I went down, To look on the buds of the valley, To see to where the vine had flourished, The pomegranates had blossomed—

12 There I will give you my breasts: my soul knew [it] not: it made me as the chariots of Aminadab.

I did not know my soul, It made me—chariots of my people Nadib.

13 Return, return, O Sunamite; return, return, and we will look at you. What will you see in the Sunamite? She comes as bands of armies.

Return, return, O Shulammith! Return, return, and we look on you. What do you see in Shulammith?