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.
15Catch for us the foxes, The little foxes that spoil the vineyards; For our vineyards are in blossom. Beloved
16My beloved is mine, and I am his. He browses among the lilies.
17Until the day is cool, and the shadows flee away, Turn, my beloved, And be like a roe or a young hart on the mountains of Bether.
