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

Sponsa Dilectus meus descendit in hortum suum ad areolam aromatum, ut pascatur in hortis, et lilia colligat.

Where should he be, my true love, but among the spices; where but in his garden, gathering the lilies?

I to my beloved, and my beloved to me, who feedeth among the lilies.

Ego dilecto meo, et dilectus meus mihi, qui pascitur inter lilia.

All mine, my true love, and I all his; ever he would choose the lilies for his pasture-ground.

Thou art beautiful, O my love, sweet and comely as Jerusalem: terrible as an army set in array.

SponsusPulchra es, amica mea; suavis, et decora sicut Jerusalem; terribilis ut castrorum acies ordinata.

Fair thou art and graceful, my heart’s love; for beauty, Jerusalem itself is not thy match; yet no embattled array so awes men’s hearts.

Turn away thy eyes from me, for they have made me flee away. Thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from Galaad.

Averte oculos tuos a me, quia ipsi me avolare fecerunt. Capilli tui sicut grex caprarum quæ apparuerunt de Galaad.

Turn thy eyes away, that so unman me! Hair dazzling as the goats have, when they come flocking home from the Galaad hills;

Thy teeth as a flock of sheep, which come up from the washing, all with twins, and there is none barren among them.

Dentes tui sicut grex ovium quæ ascenderunt de lavacro: omnes gemellis fœtibus, et sterilis non est in eis.

teeth white as ewes fresh from the washing, well matched as the twin lambs that follow them; barren is none;

Thy cheeks are as the bark of a pomegranate, beside what is hidden within thee.

Sicut cortex mali punici, sic genæ tuæ, absque occultis tuis.

thy cheeks shew through their veil rosy as skin of pomegranate!

There are threescore queens, and fourscore concubines, and young maidens without number.

Sexaginta sunt reginæ, et octoginta concubinæ, et adolescentularum non est numerus.

What are three score of queens, and eighty concubines, and maids about them past all counting?

One is my dove, my perfect one is but one, she is the only one of her mother, the chosen of her that bore her. The daughters saw her, and declared her most blessed: the queens and concubines, and they praised her.

Una est columba mea, perfecta mea, una est matris suæ, electa genetrici suæ. Viderunt eam filiæ, et beatissimam prædicaverunt; reginæ et concubinæ, et laudaverunt eam.

One there is beyond compare; for me, none so gentle, none so pure! Only once her mother travailed; she would have no darling but this. Maid was none that saw her but called her blessed; queen was none, nor concubine, but spoke in her praise.

Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in array?

Quæ est ista quæ progreditur quasi aurora consurgens, pulchra ut luna, electa ut sol, terribilis ut castrorum acies ordinata?

Who is this, whose coming shews like the dawn of day? No moon so fair, no sun so majestic, no embattled array so awes men’s hearts.

I went down into the garden of nuts, to see the fruits of the valleys, and to look if the vineyard had flourished, and the pomegranates budded.

Sponsa Descendi in hortum nucum, ut viderem poma convallium, et inspicerem si floruisset vinea, et germinassent mala punica.

But when I betook me to the fruit garden, to find apples in the hollows, to see if vine had flowered there, and pomegranate had budded,

I knew not: my soul troubled me for the chariots of Aminadab.

Nescivi: anima mea conturbavit me, propter quadrigas Aminadab.

all unawares, my heart misgave me … beside the chariots of Aminadab.

Return, return, O Sulamitess: return, return that we may behold thee.

Chorus Revertere, revertere, Sulamitis! revertere, revertere ut intueamur te.

Come back, maid of Sulam, come back; let us feast our eyes on thee. Maid of Sulam, come back, come back!