Song of Songs 6:1-13

Song of Songs 6:1-13 The Message (MSG)

So where has this love of yours gone, fair one? Where on earth can he be? Can we help you look for him? 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: “Has anyone ever seen anything like this— dawn-fresh, moon-lovely, sun-radiant, ravishing as the night sky with its galaxies of stars?” One day I went strolling through the orchard, looking for signs of spring, Looking for buds about to burst into flower, anticipating readiness, ripeness. Before I knew it my heart was raptured, carried away by lofty thoughts! Dance, dance, dear Shulammite, Angel-Princess! Dance, and we’ll feast our eyes on your grace! Everyone wants to see the Shulammite dance her victory dances of love and peace.

Song of Songs 6:1-13 King James Version (KJV)

Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? Whither is thy beloved turned aside? That we may seek him with thee. 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. Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, Fair as the moon, clear as the sun, And terrible as an army with banners? I went down into the garden of nuts To see the fruits of the valley, And to see whether the vine flourished, And the pomegranates budded. Or ever I was aware, My soul made me like the chariots of Amminadib. Return, return, O Shulamite; Return, return, that we may look upon thee.

Song of Songs 6:1-13 New American Standard Bible - NASB 1995 (NASB1995)

“Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Where has your beloved turned, That we may seek him with you?” “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 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 a pomegranate Behind your veil. There are sixty queens and eighty concubines, And maidens 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 bore her. The maidens saw her and called her blessed, The queens and the concubines also, and they praised her, saying, ‘Who is this that grows like the dawn, As beautiful as the full moon, As pure as the sun, As awesome as an army with banners?’ I went down to the orchard of nut trees To see the blossoms of the valley, To see whether the vine had budded Or the pomegranates had bloomed. Before I was aware, my soul set me Over the chariots of my noble people.” “Come back, come back, O Shulammite; Come back, come back, that we may gaze at you!” “ W hy should you gaze at the Shulammite, As at the dance of the two companies?

Song of Songs 6:1-13 New Century Version (NCV)

Where has your lover gone, most beautiful of women? Which way did your lover turn? We will look for him with you. My lover has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens and to gather lilies. I belong to my lover, and my lover belongs to me. He feeds among the lilies. My darling, you are as beautiful as the city of Tirzah, as lovely as the city of Jerusalem, like an army flying flags. Turn your eyes from me, because they excite me too much. Your hair is like a flock of goats streaming down Mount Gilead. Your teeth are white like sheep just coming from their bath; each one has a twin, and none of them is missing. Your cheeks behind your veil are like slices of a pomegranate. There may be sixty queens and eighty slave women and so many girls you cannot count them, but there is only one like my dove, my perfect one. She is her mother’s only daughter, the brightest of the one who gave her birth. The young women saw her and called her happy; the queens and the slave women also praised her. Who is that young woman that shines out like the dawn? She is as pretty as the moon, as bright as the sun, as wonderful as an army flying flags. I went down into the orchard of nut trees to see the blossoms of the valley, to look for buds on the vines, to see if the pomegranate trees had bloomed. Before I realized it, my desire for you made me feel like a prince in a chariot. Come back, come back, woman of Shulam. Come back, come back, so we may look at you!

Song of Songs 6:1-13 American Standard Version (ASV)

Whither is thy beloved gone, O thou fairest among women? Whither hath thy beloved turned him, That we may seek him with thee? My beloved is gone down to 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 his flock among the lilies. Thou art fair, 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 lie along the side of Gilead. Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes, Which are come up from the washing; Whereof every one hath twins, And none is bereaved among them. Thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate Behind thy veil. 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 called her blessed; Yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her. Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, Fair as the moon, Clear as the sun, Terrible as an army with banners? I went down into the garden of nuts, To see the green plants of the valley, To see whether the vine budded, And the pomegranates were in flower. Before I was aware, my soul set me Among the chariots of my princely people. Return, return, O Shulammite; Return, return, that we may look upon thee.

Song of Songs 6:1-13 New International Version (NIV)

Where has your beloved gone, most beautiful of women? Which way did your beloved turn, that we may look for him with you? 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. Who is this that appears like the dawn, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, majestic as the stars in procession? I went down to the grove of nut trees to look at the new growth in the valley, to see if the vines had budded or the pomegranates were in bloom. Before I realized it, my desire set me among the royal chariots of my people. Come back, come back, O Shulammite; come back, come back, that we may gaze on you!

Song of Songs 6:1-13 New King James Version (NKJV)

Where has your beloved gone, O fairest among women? Where has your beloved turned aside, That we may seek him with you? 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. Who is she who looks forth as the morning, Fair as the moon, Clear as the sun, Awesome as an army with banners? I went down to the garden of nuts To see the verdure of the valley, To see whether the vine had budded And the pomegranates had bloomed. Before I was even aware, My soul had made me As the chariots of my noble people. Return, return, O Shulamite; Return, return, that we may look upon you!

Song of Songs 6:1-13 Amplified Bible (AMP)

“Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Where is your beloved hiding himself, That we may seek him with you?” ¶“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] ¶‘Who is this that looks down like the dawn, Fair and beautiful as the full moon, Clear and pure as the sun, As majestic as an army with banners?’ “I went down to the orchard of nut trees To see the flowers of the valley, To see whether the grapevine had budded And the pomegranates were in flower. “Before I was aware [of what was happening], my desire had brought me Into the area of the princes of my people [the king’s retinue].” ¶“Return, return, O Shulammite; Return, return, that we may gaze at you.”

Song of Songs 6:1-13 New Living Translation (NLT)

Where has your lover gone, O woman of rare beauty? Which way did he turn so we can help you find him? 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: “Who is this, arising like the dawn, as fair as the moon, as bright as the sun, as majestic as an army with billowing banners?” I went down to the grove of walnut trees and out to the valley to see the new spring growth, to see whether the grapevines had budded or the pomegranates were in bloom. Before I realized it, my strong desires had taken me to the chariot of a noble man. Return, return to us, O maid of Shulam. Come back, come back, that we may see you again.

Song of Songs 6:1-13 The Passion Translation (TPT)

O rarest of beauty, where then has your lover gone? We long to see him too. Where may we find him? We will follow you as you seek after him. My lover has gone down into his garden of delight, to the flowerbeds of spices to feast with those pure in heart. I am fully devoted to my beloved, and my beloved is fully devoted to me. O my beloved, you are lovely. When I see you in your beauty, I see a radiant city where we will dwell as one. More pleasing than any pleasure, more delightful than any delight, you have ravished my heart, stealing away my strength to resist you. Even hosts of angels stand in awe of you. Turn your eyes from me; I can’t take it anymore! I can’t resist the passion of these eyes that I adore. Overpowered by a glance, my ravished heart—undone. Held captive by your love, I am truly overcome! For your undying devotion to me is the most yielded sacrifice. The shining of your spirit shows how you have taken my truth to become balanced and complete. Your beautiful blushing cheeks reveal how real your passion is for me, even hidden behind your veil of humility. I could have chosen any from among the vast multitude of royal ones who follow me. But unique is my beloved dove—unrivaled in beauty, without equal, beyond compare, the perfect one, the favorite one. Others see your beauty and sing of your joy. Brides and queens chant your praise: “How blessed is she!” Look at you now— arising as the dayspring of the dawn, fair as the shining moon, bright and brilliant as the sun in all its strength— astonishing to behold as a majestic army waving banners of victory. I decided to go down to the valley streams where the orchards of the king grow and mature. I longed to know if hearts were opening. Are the budding vines blooming with new growth? Has their springtime of passionate love arrived? Then suddenly my longings transported me. My divine desire brought me next to my beloved prince, sitting with him in his royal chariot. We were lifted up together! Come back! Return to us, O maiden of his majesty. Dance for us as we gaze upon your beauty.

Song of Songs 6:1-13 English Standard Version 2016 (ESV)

Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Where has your beloved turned, that we may seek him with you? 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. “Who is this who looks down like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, awesome as an army with banners?” I went down to the nut orchard to look at the blossoms of the valley, to see whether the vines had budded, whether the pomegranates were in bloom. Before I was aware, my desire set me among the chariots of my kinsman, a prince. Return, return, O Shulammite, return, return, that we may look upon you.