Like the fragrance of thy precious oils, Oil poured out, is thy name, For this cause, virgins love thee.

Thy buddings forth, are a paradise of pomegranates, with precious fruits, - henna bushes, with nard blossoms:

SHEAwake, O north wind, and come in, thou south, Fan my garden - its balsams, will flow out, - Let my beloved enter his garden, and eat his precious fruits.

The love-apples, have given fragrance, and, at our openings, are all precious things, new and yet old, - O my beloved! I have treasured them up for thee.