A locked garden is My sister, My spouse; a rock heap locked up, a fountain sealed.

Awake, O north wind; and come, south wind; blow on my garden, so that the spices of it may flow out. Let my Beloved come into His garden and eat His pleasant fruits.

I have come into My garden, My sister, My spouse; I have gathered My myrrh with My spice; I have eaten My honeycomb with My honey; I have drunk My wine with My milk. Eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O Beloved.

My Beloved has gone down to His garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens and to gather lilies.

I went down into the garden of nuts to see the greenery of the valley, to see whether the vine flowered and the pomegranates budded.