Tell me, You whom my soul loves, where do You feed, where do You lie down at noon? For why should I be as one who is veiled beside the flocks of Your companions?

If you know not, most beautiful among women, go in the footsteps of the flock; and feed your kids beside the shepherds' tents.

Feed me with raisin cakes, comfort me with apples, for I am sick with love.

I have put off My coat; How shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?

My Beloved has gone down to His garden, to the beds of spices, to feed in the gardens and to gather lilies.

How beautiful are your feet in sandals, O prince's daughter! The curves of your thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a skillful workman.