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My dove, my perfect one, is only one,
    the darling of her mother,
    flawless to her that bore her.
The maidens saw her and called her happy;
    the queens and concubines also, and they praised her.
10 “Who is this that looks forth like the dawn,
    fair as the moon, bright as the sun,
    terrible as an army with banners?”

11 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.

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