The Lover to His Beloved: O my dove, ¹  in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places of the mountain crags, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.

The Lover to His Beloved: O you who stay in the gardens, my companions are listening attentively ¹  for your voice; let me be the one to ²  hear it! ³ 

The pomegranates have appeared ¹  in the land, the time for pruning and singing ²  has come; the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

The Beloved about Her Lover: Listen! ¹  My lover is approaching! ²  Look! ³  Here he comes, leaping over the mountains, bounding over the hills!

The Beloved about Her Lover: I was asleep, but my mind ¹  was dreaming. ²  Listen! ³  My lover ⁴  is knocking ⁵  at the door! ⁶  The Lover to His Beloved: “Open ⁷  for me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one! My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”

His mouth is very sweet; ¹  he is totally desirable. ²  This is my beloved! This is my companion, O maidens of Jerusalem!

I opened for my beloved, but my lover had already turned ¹  and gone away. ²  I fell into despair ³  when he departed. ⁴  I looked for him but did not find him; I called him but he did not answer me.