I am the flower of the field, and lilies of the valleys.

As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. In his shadow was my desire to sit, for his fruit was sweet to my mouth.

He brought me into his wine cellar: and his behavior to me ward was lovely.

For now is winter gone and rain departed and past.

Set about me cups of wine, comfort me with apples; for I am sick of love.

The flowers appear in our country and the time is come to cut the vines. The voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

His left hand lieth under my head, and his righthand shall embrace me.

Me think I hear the voice of my beloved: lo, there cometh he hopping upon the mountains, and leaping over the little hills.

As the lily among the thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

Get us the foxes, yea the little foxes that hurt the vines, for our vines bear blossoms.

My love is mine, and I am his, which feedeth among the lilies,

The fig tree hath brought forth her figs, and the vine blossoms give a savour.

Behold, my beloved said to me: Up and haste my love, my dove, my beautiful, and come:

My beloved is like a Roe or a young hart. Behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh in at the window, and peepeth through the grate.

I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the Roes and hinds of the field, that ye wake not up my love nor touch her, till she be content herself.

until the day break, and till the shadows be gone. Come again privily, O my beloved, like as a Roe or a young hart unto the mountains.

Up, haste my love, my dove, in the holes of the rock and secret places of the walls. Show me thy face and let me hear thy voice: for thy voice is sweet and thy fashion beautiful.