Where did your beloved go, tell me? Show me where he turned? And you and I will go look for him, And maybe we'll find him again.
My beloved went to a beautiful garden, Where is the incomparable aroma of lilies? He grazes there away from the bustle And collects lilies flowers. Keeping loyalty to the boundary under my heart, To my beloved I belong. And my beloved in every new day Belongs entirely to me. In my garden, where the lily blooms, The beloved tends his flocks.
You are beautiful, my love! As you are in Tirzah, I am happy with you, You are as kind as Jerusalem, And like the sunrise blazing above him. You are as formidable as the regiments that are eager to fight, Carrying banners before them. Your eyes, wherever you turn, They excite and amaze me. And your hair is like a flock of goats, Descending from Gilead to the kingdom of roses, And the teeth are like so many sheep What did your father bring out of the bathhouse? They obediently lined up in a row, Two lambs stand with each one, There is no barren or sick person among them, There are ripe apple blossoms on your cheeks, Two halves of smelling pomegranates, Under the curls they burn with fire. There are sixty queens in my chambers, There are many concubines, without number of maidens, But you, my beloved, are alone, The little dove that coos at the window. You alone are beautiful and pure, In you alone is the beauty of the whole earth, The only one in the world for pleasure A mother who is different from everyone else. The most beautiful maidens on earth, When they saw her, they praised her; Queens and concubines of the king, She was praised: bright dawn, Shining with hundreds of lights, Like the morning dawns of bright days. And it's true: only she Beautiful as the white moon Bright as the sun with many rays, Shining with the stars of the night. Who is this great king? Moon and sun, stars and dawn!
Leaving all the usual things behind, I came to the walnut garden again, Where the only one is waiting for me! I want to see the greenery of the valleys, Perhaps the storm has calmed down And the first vine blossomed, Pomegranate apples are blooming, And there in the garden there are hugs waiting for me. I don't know how or why My soul drew me to him, I don't know where my spirit fled to, When he was passing by in his chariot.
