I am black but comely

I am black but comely, daughters of Jerusalem;

Beautiful as the desert tents of Kedar,

Beautiful as the curtains of Solomon.

I have stripped of my dress;

Must I put it on again?

I have washed my feet;

Must I soil them again?

Who am I, rising as the dawn?

Fair as the moon?

Clear as the sun?

Terrible as an army with banners?

Tell me, you whom my soul loves,

Where will you lead your flocks to graze?

Where will you rest at noon?