The Beloved to Her Lover: Make haste, my beloved! Be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountains of spices.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Until the dawn arrives and the shadows flee, turn, my beloved – be like a gazelle or a young stag on the mountain gorges.

The Beloved to the Maidens: I admonish you, O maidens of Jerusalem: “Do not arouse or awaken love until it pleases!”

My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the window, peering through the lattice.

The Beloved to the Maidens: I adjure you, O maidens of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and by the young does of the open fields: Do not awaken or arouse love until it pleases!

The Beloved to the Maidens:I admonish you, O maidens of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and by the young does of the open fields: “Do not awake or arouse love until it pleases!”

The Lover to His Beloved: I went down to the orchard of walnut trees, to look for the blossoms of the valley, to see if the vines had budded or if the pomegranates were in bloom.

the cedars are the beams of our bedroom chamber; the pines are the rafters of our bedroom.

The Beloved to Her Lover: I am a meadow flower from Sharon, a lily from the valleys.

King Solomon made a sedan chair for himself of wood imported from Lebanon.

Your shoots are a royal garden full of pomegranates with choice fruits: henna with nard,

His cheeks are like garden beds full of balsam trees yielding perfume. His lips are like lilies dripping with drops of myrrh.

I was beside myself with joy! There please give me your myrrh, O daughter of my princely people.

The Lover to His Beloved: (7:1) Turn, turn, O Perfect One! Turn, turn, that I may stare at you! The Beloved to Her Lover: Why do you gaze upon the Perfect One like the dance of the Mahanaim?

My beloved is like a cluster of henna blossoms in the vineyards of En-Gedi.

The Lover to His Beloved: Oh, how beautiful you are, my beloved! Oh, how beautiful you are! Your eyes are like doves!

My lover thrust his hand through the hole, and my feelings were stirred for him.

His head is like the most pure gold. His hair is curly – black like a raven.

His arms are like rods of gold set with chrysolite. His abdomen is like polished ivory inlaid with sapphires.

The Speaker: Who is this coming up from the desert like a column of smoke, like a fragrant billow of myrrh and frankincense, every kind of fragrant powder of the traveling merchants?