7
Like a piece of pomegranate Are your temples behind your veil.
8
There are sixty queens And eighty concubines, And virgins without number.
9
My dove, my perfect one, Is the only one, The only one of her mother, The favorite of the one who bore her. The daughters saw her And called her blessed, The queens and the concubines, And they praised her.
10
Who is she who looks forth as the morning, Fair as the moon, Clear as the sun, Awesome as an army with banners?
11
The Shulamite I went down to the garden of nuts To see the verdure of the valley, To see whether the vine had budded And the pomegranates had bloomed.
12
Before I was even aware, My soul had made me As the chariots of my noble people.
13
The Beloved and His Friends Return, return, O Shulamite; Return, return, that we may look upon you! The Shulamite What would you see in the Shulamite-- As it were, the dance of the two camps?