Tell me, thou loved of my soul! Where wilt thou pasture thy flock? Where wilt thou let them recline at noon? For why should I be as one that wrappeth a veil about her, by the flocks of thy companions?

SHEThe voice of my beloved! Lo! here he cometh, - leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills.

Resembleth, my beloved, a gazelle, or a young stag, - Lo! here he is, standing behind our wall, looking in at the windows, peeping in at the lattice.

The fig-tree, hath spiced her green figs, and, the vines - all blossom, yield fragrance, - Rise up! my fair - my beautiful - one, and come away!

HEO my dove! In the retreats of the crag, in the hiding-place of the terrace, Let me see thy form, Let me hear thy voice, - For, thy voice, is sweet, and, thy form, comely.

Scarcely had I passed from them, when I found the beloved of my soul, - I caught him, and would not let him go, until that I had brought him into the house of my mother, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.

HELo! thou art beautiful, my fair one, Lo! thou art beautiful, Thine eyes, are doves, from behind thy veil, - Thy hair, is like a flock of goats, which are reclining on the sides of Mount Gilead:

Turn away thine eyes from me, for, they, have excited me, - Thy hair, is like a flock of goats, that are reclining on the sides of Mount Gilead:

One alone, is my dove, my perfect one, one alone, was she to her mother, Pure, was she to her that bare her, - The daughters, have seen her, and pronounced her happy, Queens and concubines, and they have praised her.

Thy head upon thee, is like Carmel, And, the hair of thy head, is like purple, - The king, is held captive by the ringlets!

THEYWho is this, coming up out of the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved? HEUnder the apple-tree, I roused thee, where thy mother, was in pain with thee, where she was in pain who gave thee birth!

HEO thou fair dweller in the gardens, the companions are giving heed to thy voice, Let me hear it.