Song of Solomon 5:9 YLT

⁷  The watchmen who go round about the city, Found me, smote me, wounded me, Keepers of the walls lifted up my veil from off me.

⁸  I have adjured you, daughters of Jerusalem, If ye find my beloved -- What do ye tell him? that I 'am' sick with love!

⁹  What 'is' thy beloved above 'any' beloved, O fair among women? What 'is' thy beloved above 'any' beloved, That thus thou hast adjured us?

¹⁰  My beloved 'is' clear and ruddy, Conspicuous above a myriad!

¹¹  His head 'is' pure gold -- fine gold, His locks flowing, dark as a raven,