Song of Songs 6:2-9 - Compare All Versions

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My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to browse in the gardens and to gather lilies. I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine; he browses among the lilies. You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my darling, as lovely as Jerusalem, as majestic as troops with banners. Turn your eyes from me; they overwhelm me. Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing. Each has its twin, not one of them is missing. Your temples behind your veil are like the halves of a pomegranate. Sixty queens there may be, and eighty concubines, and virgins beyond number; but my dove, my perfect one, is unique, the only daughter of her mother, the favorite of the one who bore her. The young women saw her and called her blessed; the queens and concubines praised her.

My beloved has gone down to his garden to the beds of spices, to graze in the gardens and to gather lilies. I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine; he grazes among the lilies. You are beautiful as Tirzah, my love, lovely as Jerusalem, awesome as an army with banners. Turn away your eyes from me, for they overwhelm me— Your hair is like a flock of goats leaping down the slopes of Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of ewes that have come up from the washing; all of them bear twins; not one among them has lost its young. Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate behind your veil. There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, and virgins without number. My dove, my perfect one, is the only one, the only one of her mother, pure to her who bore her. The young women saw her and called her blessed; the queens and concubines also, and they praised her.

My lover has gone down to his garden, to his spice beds, to browse in the gardens and gather the lilies. I am my lover’s, and my lover is mine. He browses among the lilies. You are beautiful, my darling, like the lovely city of Tirzah. Yes, as beautiful as Jerusalem, as majestic as an army with billowing banners. Turn your eyes away, for they overpower me. Your hair falls in waves, like a flock of goats winding down the slopes of Gilead. Your teeth are as white as sheep that are freshly washed. Your smile is flawless, each tooth matched with its twin. Your cheeks are like rosy pomegranates behind your veil. Even among sixty queens and eighty concubines and countless young women, I would still choose my dove, my perfect one— the favorite of her mother, dearly loved by the one who bore her. The young women see her and praise her; even queens and royal concubines sing her praises

My love has gone down to his garden,  to beds of spice,  to feed in the gardens  and gather lilies.  I am my love’s and my love is mine;  he feeds among the lilies. You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my darling, lovely as Jerusalem, awe-inspiring as an army with banners.  Turn your eyes away from me, for they captivate me.  Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down from Gilead.  Your teeth are like a flock of ewes coming up from washing, each one having a twin, and not one missing.  , Behind your veil,  your brow  is like a slice of pomegranate. There are sixty queens and eighty concubines  and young women  without number. But my dove,  my virtuous one, is unique;  she is the favorite of her mother, perfect to the one who gave her birth. Women see her and declare her fortunate;  queens and concubines also, and they sing her praises

My beloved is gone down into his garden, To the beds of spices, To feed in the gardens, And to gather lilies. I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: He feedeth among the lilies. Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, Comely as Jerusalem, Terrible as an army with banners. Turn away thine eyes from me, For they have overcome me: Thy hair is as a flock of goats That appear from 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. As a piece of a pomegranate are thy temples Within thy locks. There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, And virgins without number. 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 beloved has gone to his garden, To the beds of spices, To feed his flock in the gardens, And to gather lilies. I am my beloved’s, And my beloved is mine. He feeds his flock among the lilies. O my love, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, Lovely as Jerusalem, Awesome as an army with banners! Turn your eyes away from me, For they have overcome me. Your hair is like a flock of goats Going down from Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of sheep Which have come up from the washing; Every one bears twins, And none is barren among them. Like a piece of pomegranate Are your temples behind your veil. There are sixty queens And eighty concubines, And virgins without number. 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.

Never mind. My lover is already on his way to his garden, to browse among the flowers, touching the colors and forms. I am my lover’s and my lover is mine. He caresses the sweet-smelling flowers. Dear, dear friend and lover, you’re as beautiful as Tirzah, city of delights, Lovely as Jerusalem, city of dreams, the ravishing visions of my ecstasy. Your beauty is too much for me—I’m in over my head. I’m not used to this! I can’t take it in. Your hair flows and shimmers like a flock of goats in the distance streaming down a hillside in the sunshine. Your smile is generous and full— expressive and strong and clean. Your veiled cheeks are soft and radiant. There’s no one like her on earth, never has been, never will be. She’s a woman beyond compare. My dove is perfection, Pure and innocent as the day she was born, and cradled in joy by her mother. Everyone who came by to see her exclaimed and admired her— All the fathers and mothers, the neighbors and friends, blessed and praised her

¶“My beloved has gone down to his garden, To the beds of balsam, To pasture his flock in the gardens And gather lilies. “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine, He who pastures his flock among the lilies.” ¶“You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my darling, As lovely as Jerusalem, As awesome as an army with banners. “Turn your eyes away from me, For they have confused me; Your hair is like a flock of goats That have descended from Gilead. “Your teeth are like a flock of ewes That have come up from their watering place, All of which bear twins, And not one among them has lost her young. “Your temples are like a slice of a pomegranate Behind your veil. “There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, And young women without number; But my dove, my perfect one, is unique: She is her mother’s only daughter; She is the pure child of the one who gave birth to her. The young women saw her and called her blessed, The queens and the concubines also, and they praised her, saying

¶“My beloved has gone down to his garden, To the beds of balsam, To feed his flock in the gardens And gather lilies. “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine, He who feeds his flock among the lilies.” ¶“You are as beautiful as Tirzah, my darling, As lovely as Jerusalem, As majestic as an army with banners! “Turn your [flashing] eyes away from me, For they have confused and overcome me; Your hair is like [the shimmering black fleece of] a flock of [Arabian] goats That have descended from Mount Gilead. “Your teeth are like a flock of ewes Which have come up from their washing, All of which bear twins, And not one among them has lost her young. “Your temples are like a slice of the pomegranate Behind your veil. “There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, And maidens without number; But my dove, my perfect one, stands alone [above them all]; She is her mother’s only daughter; She is the pure child of the one who bore her. The maidens saw her and called her blessed and happy, The queens and the concubines also, and they praised her, saying, [Col 2:8, 9]

My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the flowerbeds of balsam spices, to graze in the gardens, and to gather lilies. I am my lover’s and my lover is mine; he grazes among the lilies. My darling, you are as beautiful as Tirzah, as lovely as Jerusalem, as awe-inspiring as bannered armies! Turn your eyes away from me – they overwhelm me! Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Mount Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin; not one of them is missing. Like a slice of pomegranate is your forehead behind your veil. There may be sixty queens, and eighty concubines, and young women without number. But she is unique! My dove, my perfect one! She is the special daughter of her mother, she is the favorite of the one who bore her. The maidens saw her and complimented her; the queens and concubines praised her