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| 6:1 | Whither is thy loue gone then (O thou fayrest amonge wemen) whither is is thy loue departed? we will seke him with the: |
| 6:2 | My loue is gone downe into hys garden, vnto the swete smellyng beddes, that he may refresh hym self in the garden, and gather roses. |
| 6:3 | My loue is myne & I am his, which fedeth amonge the roses. |
| 6:4 | Thou art beautyfull, o my loue, as is the place of Thirza, thou art fayre as Ierusalem, fearfull as an armye of men, wt theyr banners. |
| 6:5 | Turne awaye thyne eyes fro me, for they haue set me on fyre. Thy hearrye lockes are lyke a flocke of goates shorne vpon the mount of Gilead. |
| 6:6 | Thy teth are lyke a flock of shorne shepe, which go out of the washyng place: where euery one beareth twyns, & not one vnfrutefull among them. |
| 6:7 | Thy chekes are lyke a pece of a pomgranate, With in thy volupers. |
| 6:8 | There are .lx. Quenes .lxxx. wyues, and dameselles without nombre. |
| 6:9 | One is my doue, one is my derlynge. She is the onely beloued of her mother, & deare vnto her that bare her. When the daughters sawe her, they sayde, she was blessed. Yee the Quenes and wyues praysed her. |
| 6:10 | What is she this, that loketh forth as the mornynge? fayre as the moone, cleare as the sunne, and fearful as an armye of men wt their baners. |
| 6:11 | I wente downe into the nutt garden, to se what grewe by the brokes, & to loke yf the vyneyarde florished, or yf the pomgranates were shot forth. |
| 6:12 | I knewe not that my soule had made me the charyote of the people that be vnder tribute. |
| 6:13 | Turne againe, turne agayne. O thou perfecte one turne ageyne, turne agayne, & we will loke vpon the. What wil ye se in the Sulamyte? She is lyke men of warre singynge in a companye. |
| 6:1 | My derlyng yede doun in to his orcherd, to the gardyn of swete smellynge spices, that he be fed there in orcherdis, and gadere lilyes. |
| 6:2 | Y to my derlyng; and my derlyng, that is fed among the lilies, be to me. |
| 6:3 | Mi frendesse, thou art fair, swete and schappli as Jerusalem, thou art ferdful as the scheltrun of oostis set in good ordre. |
| 6:4 | Turne awei thin iyen fro me, for tho maden me to fle awei; thin heeris ben as the flockis of geet, that apperiden fro Galaad. |
| 6:5 | Thi teeth as a flok of scheep, that stieden fro waischyng; alle ben with double lambren, `ether twynnes, and no bareyn is among tho. As the rynde of a pumgranate, so ben thi chekis, without thi priuytees. |
| 6:6 | |
| 6:7 | Sixti ben queenys, and eiyti ben secundarie wyues; and of yong damesels is noon noumbre. |
| 6:8 | Oon is my culuer, my perfit spousesse, oon is to hir modir, and is the chosun of hir modir; the douytris of Syon sien hir, and prechiden hir moost blessid; queenys, and secundarie wyues preisiden hir. |
| 6:9 | Who is this, that goith forth, as the moreutid risynge, fair as the moone, chosun as the sunne, ferdful as the scheltrun of oostis set in good ordre? |
| 6:10 | Y cam doun in to myn orcherd, to se the applis of grete valeis, and to biholde, if vyneris hadden flourid, and if pumgranate trees hadden buriowned. |
| 6:11 | Y knew not; my soule disturblide me, for the charis of Amynadab. |
| 6:12 | Turne ayen, turne ayen, thou Sunamyte; turne ayen, turne ayen, that we biholde thee. What schalt thou se in the Sunamyte, no but cumpenyes of oostis? |
| 6:13 | |
| 6:1 | Whither is thy loue gone the (o thou fayrest amonge weme) whither is thy loue departed, that we maye seke him with the? |
| 6:2 | My loue is gone downe in to his garden, vnto ye swete smellinge beddes, that he maye refresh himself in the garden, and gather floures. |
| 6:3 | My loue is myne, and I am his, which fedeth amonge the lilies. |
| 6:4 | Thou art pleasaunt (o my loue) euen as louelynesse itself, thou art fayre as Ierusalem, glorious as an armye of men with their baners |
| 6:5 | (Turne awaye thine eyes fro me, for they make me to proude) Thy hayrie lockes are like a flocke of goates vpon ye mount of Galaad. |
| 6:6 | Thy teth are like a flock of shepe yt be clypped, which go out of the washinge place: where euery one beareth two twyns, & not one vnfrutefull amoge them. |
| 6:7 | Thy chekes are like a pece of a pomgranate, besydes yt which lyeth hid within. |
| 6:8 | There are thre score quenes, foure score concubynes, and yonge weme without nombre. |
| 6:9 | But one is my doue, my derlynge. She is the onely beloued of hir mother, & deare vnto her that bare her. Wha the daughters sawe her, they sayde she was blessed: Yee the quenes and concubines praysed her. |
| 6:10 | What is she this, that pepeth out as the mornynge? fayre as the Moone, excellent as the Sonne, glorious as an armye of men with their banners? |
| 6:11 | I wente downe in to the nutt garden, to se what grew by the brokes, to loke yf the vynyarde florished, and yf the pomgranates were shot forth. |
| 6:12 | Then the charettes of the prynce of my people made me sodenly afrayed. |
| 6:13 | Turne againe, turne againe (O thou Sulamite) turne agayne, turne agayne, that we maye loke vpon the. What pleasure haue ye more in ye Sulamite, than when she daunseth amonge the men of warre? |
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Green's Literal Translation (LITV). Copyright 1993 by Jay P. Green Sr.
All rights reserved. Jay P. Green Sr., Lafayette, IN. U.S.A. 47903.
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