My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: Behold, he standeth behind our wall; He looketh in at the windows; He glanceth through the lattice.

Until the day be cool, and the shadows flee away, Turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart Upon the mountains of Bether.

Thy two breasts are like two fawns That are twins of a roe, Which feed among the lilies.

Thy two breasts are like two fawns That are twins of a roe.

Make haste, my beloved, And be thou like to a roe or to a young hart Upon the mountains of spices.