I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, or by the hinds of the field, that you not stir up, nor awaken love, until it so desires.
The voice of my beloved!
Behold, he comes, leaping on the mountains, skipping on the hills.
My beloved is like a roe or a young deer.
Behold, he stands behind our wall!
He looks in at the windows.
He glances through the lattice.
My beloved spoke, and said to me, “Rise up, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.
For behold, the winter is past.
The rain is over and gone.