My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look, there he stands behind our wall, looking through the windows, gazing through the lattice.

My darling, you are altogether beautiful and there is no blemish in you.

I was asleep, but my heart was awake. There's a sound! My beloved is knocking. "Open up for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one. For my head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night."

There are sixty queens and eighty mistresses, and too many young women to count,

Let us go early to the vineyards, let us see whether the vine has budded, whether the blossom has opened, whether the pomegranates have bloomed. There I'll give you my love.

Who is this coming up from the desert, leaning on her beloved? Under theapple tree I awakened you. There your mother had gone into labor with you; there she went into labor and gave birth to you.