Like the fragrance of thy precious oils, Oil poured out, is thy name, For this cause, virgins love thee.

My dove, in clefts of the rock, In a secret place of the ascent, Cause me to see thine appearance, Cause me to hear thy voice, For thy voice is sweet, and thy appearance comely.

Awake, O north wind, and come, O south, Cause my garden to breathe forth, its spices let flow, Let my beloved come to his garden, And eat its pleasant fruits!

I would lead thee, bring thee into my mother's house; Thou wouldest instruct me: I would cause thee to drink of spiced wine, Of the juice of my pomegranate.

Thou that dwellest in the gardens, The companions hearken for thy voice: Cause me to hear it.