Count me no more than wild rose on the lowland plain, wild lily on the moun-tain slopes.✻
A lily, matched with these other maidens, a lily among the brambles, she whom I love!
An apple-tree in the wild woodland, shade cool to rest under, fruit sweet to the taste, such is he my heart longs for, matched with his fellows.
Into his own banqueting-hall the king has brought me, shewn me the blazon of his love.
Cushioned on flowers, apples heaped high about me, and love-sick all the while!
His left hand pillows my head; his right hand, even now, ready to embrace me.
An oath, maidens of Jerusalem! By the gazelles and the wild fawns I charge you, wake never from her sleep my heart’s love, till wake she will!✻
The voice I love! See where he comes, how he speeds over the mountains, how he spurns the hills!✻
Gazelle nor fawn was ever so fleet of foot as my heart’s love. And now he is standing on the other side of this very wall; now he is looking in through each window in turn, peering through every chink.
I can hear my true love calling to me: Rise up, rise up quickly, dear heart, so gentle, so beautiful, rise up and come with me.
Winter is over now, the rain has passed by.
At home, the flowers have begun to blossom; pruning-time has come; we can hear the turtle-dove cooing already, there at home.
There is green fruit on the fig-trees; the vines in flower are all fragrance. Rouse thee, and come, so beautiful, so well beloved,
still hiding thyself as a dove hides in cleft rock or crannied wall. Shew me but thy face, let me but hear thy voice, that voice sweet as thy face is fair.
How was it they sang? Catch me the fox, the little fox there, thieving among the vineyards; vineyards of ours, all a-blossoming!✻
All mine, my true love, and I all his; see where he goes out to pasture among the lilies,
till the day grows cool, and the shadows long. Come back, my heart’s love, swift as gazelle or fawn out on the hills of Bether.
The Holy Bible