My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the window, peering through the lattice.

You are altogether beautiful, my darling! There is no blemish in you!

There may be sixty queens, and eighty concubines, and young women without number.

I was beside myself with joy! There please give me your myrrh, O daughter of my princely people.

Let us rise early to go to the vineyards, to see if the vines have budded, to see if their blossoms have opened, if the pomegranates are in bloom -- there I will give you my love.

The Maidens about His Beloved: Who is this coming up from the desert, leaning on her beloved? The Beloved to Her Lover: Under the apple tree I aroused you; there your mother conceived you, there she who bore you was in labor of childbirth.