NAB

D
Where has your lover gone,
most beautiful among women?
Where has your lover withdrawn
that we may seek him with you?

W
My lover has come down to his garden,
to the beds of spices,
To feed in the gardens
and to gather lilies.

I belong to my lover, and my lover belongs to me;
he feeds among the lilies.

M
Beautiful as Tirzah are you, my friend;
fair as Jerusalem,
fearsome as celestial visions!

Turn your eyes away from me,
for they stir me up.
Your hair is like a flock of goats
streaming down from Gilead.

Your teeth are like a flock of ewes
that come up from the washing,
All of them big with twins,
none of them barren.

Like pomegranate halves,
your cheeks behind your veil.

Sixty are the queens, eighty the concubines,
and young women without number―

One alone is my dove, my perfect one,
her mother’s special one,
favorite of the one who bore her.
Daughters see her and call her happy,
queens and concubines, and they praise her:

“Who is this that comes forth like the dawn,
beautiful as the white moon, pure as the blazing sun,
fearsome as celestial visions?”

W
To the walnut grove I went down,
to see the young growth of the valley;
To see if the vines were in bloom,
if the pomegranates had blossomed.

Before I knew it, my desire had made me
the blessed one of the prince’s people.