Let not your eyes be turned on me, because I am dark, because I was looked on by the sun; my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vine-gardens; but my vine-garden I have not kept.

A garden shut up is my sister, my bride; A spring shut up, a fountain sealed.

The produce of the garden is pomegranates; with all the best fruits, henna and spikenard,

You are a garden spring,
a well of flowing water
streaming from Lebanon.

Awake, north wind, and come, thou south; Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow forth. Let my beloved come into his garden, And eat its precious fruits.

I am come into my garden, my sister, my spouse; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, beloved ones!

His cheeks are like garden beds full of balsam trees yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with drops of myrrh.

My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the beds of spices, To feed in the gardens and to gather lilies.

“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine,
He who feeds his flock among the lilies.”

I went down into the garden of nuts, To see the verdure of the valley, To see whether the vine budded, Whether the pomegranates blossomed.

Solomon had a vine-garden at Baal-hamon; he let out the vine-garden to keepers; every one had to give a thousand bits of silver for its fruit.

My vine-garden, which is mine, is before me: you, O Solomon, will have the thousand, and those who keep the fruit of them two hundred.

O you who dwell in the garden, [my] companions are listening to your voice. Let me hear [it]!