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
14My dove in the clefts of the rock, In the hiding places of the mountainside, Let me see your face. Let me hear your voice; For your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
