Until when does the day blow, and the shadows flee away? Turn, my Beloved, and be like a gazelle, or a young deer, the stag, on the mountains of Bether.

Until when the day blows, and the shadows flee away, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense.

I opened to my Beloved, but my Beloved had left. He passed on. My soul went out when He spoke; I sought Him, but I could not find Him. I called Him, but He did not answer me.

Who could give You to me as my brother, who sucked my mother's breasts? When I find You outside, I would kiss You; yea, they would not despise me.

We have a little sister, and she has no breasts; what shall we do for our sister in the day when she shall be spoken for?