8The voice of my beloved! lo, this -- he is coming, Leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
9My beloved [is] like to a roe, Or to a young one of the harts. Lo, this -- he is standing behind our wall, Looking from the windows, Blooming from the lattice.
10My beloved hath answered and said to me, `Rise up, my friend, my fair one, and come away,
11For lo, the winter hath passed by, The rain hath passed away -- it hath gone.
12The flowers have appeared in the earth, The time of the singing hath come, And the voice of the turtle was heard in our land,
13The fig-tree hath ripened her green figs, And the sweet-smelling vines have given forth fragrance, Rise, come, my friend, my fair one, yea, come away.
14My dove, in clefts of the rock, In a secret place of the ascent, Cause me to see thine appearance, Cause me to hear thy voice, For thy voice [is] sweet, and thy appearance comely.
