My beloved spoke to me: "Get up, my darling, my beautiful one, and come on.

The fig tree has produced its fruit, the grapevines have blossomed and exude their fragrance. "Get up, my darling, my beautiful one, and come on.

I'll get up and go all around the city, throughout the streets, and in the squares. I'll seek the one I love. I sought him, but didn't find him.

What is this coming up from the desert like columns of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and incense from all the fragrant powders of the merchant?

Your teeth are like a flock of sheep about to be sheared, who are coming up from being washed. All of them are twins, not one has lost her young.

My sister, my bride, is a locked garden a locked rock garden, a sealed up spring.

I was asleep, but my heart was awake. There's a sound! My beloved is knocking. "Open up for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one. For my head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

I got up to open the door, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handle of the lock.

Your teeth are like a flock of ewes coming up from being washed. All of them are twins, not one has lost her young.

I told myself, "I'll go up the palm tree, and take hold of its fruit. May your breasts be like clusters of the vine, and the smell of your breath like apples.

The mandrakes give off their fragrance, and over our doors are all the choice fruits, both old and new, that I've stored up for you, my beloved.

Who is this coming up from the desert, leaning on her beloved? Under theapple tree I awakened you. There your mother had gone into labor with you; there she went into labor and gave birth to you.