The voice of my beloved!Behold, he comes,leaping on the mountains,skipping on the hills.
My beloved is like a roe or a young deer.Behold, he stands behind our wall!He looks in at the windows.He glances through the lattice.
My beloved spoke, and said to me,"Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.
For, behold, the winter is past.The rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth.The time of the singing has come,and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
The fig tree ripens her green figs.The vines are in blossom.They give out their fragrance.Arise, my love, my beautiful one,and come away."
My dove in the clefts of the rock,In the hiding places of the mountainside,Let me see your face.Let me hear your voice;for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
Catch for us the foxes,the little foxes that plunder the vineyards;for our vineyards are in blossom.
My beloved is mine, and I am his.He browses among the lilies.
Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away,turn, my beloved,and be like a roe or a young deer on the mountains of Bether.
By night on my bed, I sought him whom my soul loves
By night on my bed,I sought him whom my soul loves.I sought him, but I didn't find him.
I will get up now, and go about the city;in the streets and in the squares I will seek him whom my soul loves.I sought him, but I didn't find him.
The watchmen who go about the city found me;"Have you seen him whom my soul loves?"
I had scarcely passed from them,when I found him whom my soul loves.I held him, and would not let him go,until I had brought him into my mother's house,into the room of her who conceived me.
I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,by the roes, or by the hinds of the field,that you not stir up, nor awaken love,until it so desires.