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6 “Which way did your truelove go, most beautiful among women? Which way did your truelove turn? and we will look for him with you.” 2 My truelove went down to his garden, to the beds of sweet herbs, To crop the gardens and pick lilies. 3 I am my truelove’s and my truelove is mine, who pastures his flock among lilies. 4* You are beautiful, sweetheart, as Tirsah, lovely as Jerusalem, terrible as the aurora. 5 Turn your eyes off me, for they overpower me. Your hair is like a flock of goats that overflow Gilead. 6 Your teeth are like a flock of ewes as they come up from the washing, Flock where they all have twins and not one has lost a lamb. 7 Your temple is like a segment of pomegranate behind your veil. 8 Sixty are queens and eighty concubines, and maids innumerable; 9* One is my dove, my ideal, her mother’s one is she, her parent’s pure one she. Girls saw her and felicitated her, queens and concubines, and praised her. 10 Who is this that looks out like dawn, beautiful as the moon, clear as the sun, terrible as the aurora? 11* I went down to the nut-garden to look over the things starting in the arroyo, To see if the grapevines had broken out their buds, if the pomegranates had blossomed. 12* I did not know; my soul had made me ʽAmmi-Nadib’s chariots. 13 7:1 Come back, come back, Shulammite; come back, come back, and let us have a look at you. —What sight of the Shulammite would you have? —In the camp dance!