I am a narcissus of Sharon, A lily of the valleys.
As the lily among thorns, So is my love among the daughters.
As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons: In his shadow have I rapture and sit down; And his fruit is sweet to my taste.
He hath brought me to the house of wine, And his banner over me is love.
Sustain ye me with raisin-cakes, Refresh me with apples; For I am sick of love.
His left hand is under my head, And his right hand doth embrace me.
I charge you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the gazelles, or by the hinds of the field, That ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
The voice of my beloved! Behold, he cometh Leaping upon the mountains, Skipping upon the hills.
My beloved is like a gazelle or a young hart. Behold, he standeth behind our wall, He looketh in through the windows, Glancing through the lattice.
My beloved spake and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
For behold, the winter is past, The rain is over, it is gone:
The flowers appear on the earth; The time of singing is come, And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land;
The fig-tree melloweth her winter figs, And the vines in bloom give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away!
My dove, in the clefts of the rock, In the covert of the precipice, Let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Take us the foxes, The little foxes, that spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in bloom.
My beloved is mine, and I am his; He feedeth his flock among the lilies,
Until the day dawn, and the shadows flee away. Turn, my beloved: be thou like a gazelle or a young hart, Upon the mountains of Bether.