Song of Solomon 6

Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? whither is thy beloved turned aside? that we may seek him with thee.

Where has your loved one gone, oh most beautiful woman? Where has he strayed? So we can join you in your search for him.

My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

My dear one has ventured into his garden, amidst the fragrant herbs, to nourish himself and collect beautiful lilies.

I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine: he feedeth among the lilies.

I belong to the one I love, and he is mine; he finds nourishment amidst the beauty of lilies.

Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners.

My love, your beauty is breathtaking, like the stunning city of Tirzah, as captivating as Jerusalem, and as awe-inspiring as a mighty, flag-bearing army.

Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me: thy hair is as a flock of goats that appear from Gilead.

Please stop looking at me, your gaze is too intense, it overwhelms me. Your hair is as beautiful and abundant as a herd of goats seen on the hills of Gilead.

Thy teeth are as a flock of sheep which go up from the washing, whereof every one beareth twins, and there is not one barren among them.

Your smile is like a herd of freshly cleaned sheep, each tooth perfectly paired, none missing or out of place.

As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples within thy locks.

Your cheeks glow with sweetness, like the juicy fragments of a pomegranate hidden beneath your hair.

There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and virgins without number.

There are sixty queens, eighty concubines, and countless maidens.

My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.

My pure, unique love is like a dove; she's her mother's precious jewel. All women admire her, even queens and concubines sing her praises.

Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?

Who is this woman, radiant as dawn, beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, and fierce as an army ready for battle?

I went down into the garden of nuts to see the fruits of the valley, and to see whether the vine flourished and the pomegranates budded.

I ventured into the nut grove, eager to witness the valley's bounty, and to check if the vines were thriving and the pomegranates beginning to bloom.

Or ever I was aware, my soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib.

Before I even realized it, my spirit propelled me with the speed and strength of Amminadib's chariots.

Return, return, O Shulamite; return, return, that we may look upon thee. What will ye see in the Shulamite? As it were the company of two armies.

Come back, come back, O Shulamite; come back, come back, so we can admire you. What do you see in the Shulamite? She's like a force of two armies.