The flowers appear on the earth.
The time of the singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
The fig tree ripens her green figs.
The vines are in blossom.
They give out their fragrance.
Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.”
My 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.
Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that plunder the vineyards; for our vineyards are in blossom.