7I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, By the roes, or by the hinds of the field, That you not stir up, nor awaken love, Until it so desires.
8The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, Leaping on the mountains, Skipping on the hills.
9My beloved is like a roe or a young hart. Behold, he stands behind our wall! He looks in at the windows. He glances through the lattice.
10My beloved spoke, and said to me, Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.
11For, behold, the winter is past. The rain is over and gone.
12The flowers appear on the earth; The time of the singing has come, And the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land.
13The fig tree ripens her green figs. The vines are in blossom; They give forth their fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, And come away. Lover
