The mandrakes send out their fragrance; over our door is every delicacy, both new and old, which I have stored up for you, my lover.

The Beloved to Her Lover: Awake, O north wind; come, O south wind! Blow on my garden so that its fragrant spices may send out their sweet smell. May my beloved come into his garden and eat its delightful fruit!

The Beloved about Her Lover: While the king was at his banqueting table, my nard gave forth its fragrance.