The other women say, “You are the most beautiful woman of all. Where has the one who loves you gone? Which way did he turn? We'll help you look for him.” The woman says,
“My love has gone down to his garden. He's gone to the beds of spices. He's eating in the gardens. He's gathering lilies.
I belong to my love, and he belongs to me. He's eating among the lilies.” The king says,
“My love, you are as beautiful as the city of Tirzah. You are as lovely as Jerusalem. You are as majestic as troops carrying their banners.
Turn your eyes away from me. They overpower me. Your hair flows like a flock of black goats coming down from Mount Gilead.
Your teeth are as clean as a flock of sheep coming up from being washed. Each of your teeth has its twin. Not one of them is alone.
Your cheeks behind your veil are like the halves of a pomegranate.
There might be 60 queens and 80 concubines. There might be more virgins than anyone can count.
But you are my perfect dove. There isn't anyone like you. You are your mother's favorite daughter. The young women see you and call you blessed. The queens and concubines praise you.” The other women say,
“Who is this woman? She is like the sunrise in all of its glory. She is as beautiful as the moon. She is as bright as the sun. She is as majestic as troops carrying their banners.” The king says,
“I went down to a grove of nut trees. I wanted to look at the new plants growing in the valley. I wanted to find out whether the vines had budded. I wanted to see if the pomegranate trees had bloomed.
Before I realized it, I was among the royal chariots of my people.” The other women say,
“Come back to us. Come back, Shulammite woman. Come back to us. Come back. Then we can look at you.” The woman says, “Why do you want to look at me as you would watch a dancer at Mahanaim?”
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