12 The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land;
13 The fig tree puts forth its green figs, and the vines with the tender grapes give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
14 O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the cliff, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for sweet is your voice, and your countenance is lovely.
15 Catch us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.
16 My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feeds his flock among the lilies.
17 Until the day breaks, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag upon the mountains of Bether.