If thou knowest not, O fair among women, Get thee forth by the traces of the flock, And feed thy kids by the shepherds' dwellings!

My loved one said to me, Get up, my love, my fair one, and come away.

The fig-tree puts out her green fruit and the vines with their young fruit give a good smell. Get up from your bed, my beautiful one, and come away.

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

I will get up now and go about the town, in the streets and in the wide ways I will go after him who is the love of my soul: I went after him, but I did not see him.

Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, And to the hill of frankincense.

W I have taken off my clothing.
How can I put it back on?
I have washed my feet.
How can I get them dirty?

My loved one is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, to take food in the gardens, and to get lilies.

Let us get up early to the vineyards; Let us see whether the vine hath budded, And its blossom is open, And the pomegranates are in flower: There will I give thee my love.

O get thee away, my love, as a roe or a young hart unto the sweet smelling mountains.