My dove, in the clefts of the rock,
in the crevices of the cliff,
let me see your face,
let me hear your voice;
for your voice is sweet,
and your face is lovely.

I will arise now and go about the city,
through the streets and the plazas.
I will seek the one I love.
I sought him, but did not find him.

The guards who go about the city found me.
I asked them, “Have you seen the one I love?”

Y Where has your love gone,
most beautiful of women?
Which way has he turned?
We will seek him with you.

But my dove, my virtuous one, is unique;
she is the favorite of her mother,
perfect to the one who gave her birth.
Women see her and declare her fortunate;
queens and concubines also, and they sing her praises:

W I came down to the walnut grove
to see the blossoms of the valley,
to see if the vines were budding
and the pomegranates blooming.

Let’s go early to the vineyards;
let’s see if the vine has budded,
if the blossom has opened,
if the pomegranates are in bloom.
There I will give you my love.