The Beloved to Her Lover: Come, my beloved, let us go to the countryside; let us spend the night in the villages.

Until the dawn arrives and the shadows flee, I will go up to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.

Let us rise early to go to the vineyards, to see if the vines have budded, to see if their blossoms have opened, if the pomegranates are in bloom – there I will give you my love.

Scarcely had I passed them by when I found my beloved! I held onto him tightly and would not let him go until I brought him to my mother’s house, to the bedroom chamber of the one who conceived me.

“I will arise and look all around throughout the town, and throughout the streets and squares; I will search for my beloved.” I searched for him but I did not find him.

The night watchmen found me – the ones who guard the city walls. “Have you seen my beloved?”

Come out, O maidens of Zion, and gaze upon King Solomon! He is wearing the crown with which his mother crowned him on his wedding day, on the most joyous day of his life!

The Lover to His Beloved: If you do not know, O most beautiful of women, simply follow the tracks of my flock, and pasture your little lambs beside the tents of the shepherds.

I want to climb the palm tree, and take hold of its fruit stalks. May your breasts be like the clusters of grapes, and may the fragrance of your breath be like apricots!

The watchmen found me as they made their rounds in the city. They beat me, they bruised me; they took away my cloak, those watchmen on the walls!

The Maidens to the Beloved: Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Where has your beloved turned? Tell us, that we may seek him with you.

Turn your eyes away from me – they overwhelm me! Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Mount Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin; not one of them is missing.

May your mouth be like the best wine, flowing smoothly for my beloved, gliding gently over our lips as we sleep together.

The Lover to His Beloved: Oh, you are beautiful, my darling! Oh, you are beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are like doves. Your hair is like a flock of female goats descending from Mount Gilead.

Draw me after you; let us hurry! May the king bring me into his bedroom chambers! The Maidens to the Lover: We will rejoice and delight in you; we will praise your love more than wine. The Beloved to Her Lover: How rightly the young women adore you!