My sister, my bride, is a locked garden a locked rock garden, a sealed up spring.

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

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind. Make my garden breathe out, let its fragrance flow. Let my beloved come into his garden, and let him eat its choicest fruits.

I've come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I've gathered my myrrh with my spices. I've eaten my honeycomb with my honey. I've drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, friends! Drink and become drunk with love.

My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to graze his flock in the gardens and gather lilies.