Do not stare at me because I am dark, for the sun has burned my skin. My brothers were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards. Alas, my own vineyard I could not keep!

Look! The winter has passed, the winter rains are over and gone.

The pomegranates have appeared in the land, the time for pruning and singing has come; the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

The fig tree has budded, the vines have blossomed and give off their fragrance. Arise, come away my darling; my beautiful one, come away with me!"

All of them are skilled with a sword, well-trained in the art of warfare. Each has his sword at his side, to guard against the terrors of the night.

Your teeth are like a flock of newly-shorn sheep coming up from the washing place; each of them has a twin, and not one of them is missing.

The Maidens to the Beloved: Where has your beloved gone, O most beautiful among women? Where has your beloved turned? Tell us, that we may seek him with you.

The Beloved to the Maidens: My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the flowerbeds of balsam spices, to graze in the gardens, and to gather lilies.

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep coming up from the washing; each has its twin; not one of them is missing.

The Beloved's Brothers: We have a little sister, and as yet she has no breasts. What shall we do for our sister on the day when she is spoken for?