Where has my beloved gone, you daughters? Which road has carried him away? He has gone down to gardens filled with fragrance, To gather lilies where the spices grow. I am my beloved's, and he is mine; He feeds his flock among the lilies. You are beautiful as Tirzah, love, Lovely as Jerusalem before me, Awesome as an army under banners; Turn your eyes, for they have overcome me. Your hair descends like goats along the mountain; Your smile is full, your cheeks are bright. There are queens and women without number, Yet my dove is one, complete and rare. Daughters see her rising and call her blessed; Queens behold her and begin to praise. Who is this appearing like the morning, Beautiful and clear as moon and sun, Strong in love like ranks beneath their standards, Moving as an army made as one? I went down to see the garden budding, To watch the vines and pomegranates bloom. Before I knew, desire had carried me forward; Return, Shulamite, return into the room.