8 The voice of my beloved!
   Look, he comes,
leaping upon the mountains,
   bounding over the hills.
9 My beloved is like a gazelle
   or a young stag.
Look, there he stands
   behind our wall,
gazing in at the windows,
   looking through the lattice.
10 My beloved speaks and says to me:
‘Arise, my love, my fair one,
   and come away;
11 for now the winter is past,
   the rain is over and gone.
12 The flowers appear on the earth;
   the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtle-dove
   is heard in our land.
13 The fig tree puts forth its figs,
   and the vines are in blossom;
   they give forth fragrance.
Arise, my love, my fair one,
   and come away.
14 O my dove, in the clefts of the rock,
   in the covert of the cliff,
let me see your face,
   let me hear your voice;
for your voice is sweet,
   and your face is lovely.
15 Catch us the foxes,
   the little foxes,
that ruin the vineyards—
   for our vineyards are in blossom.’

16 My beloved is mine and I am his;
   he pastures his flock among the lilies.
17 Until the day breathes
   and the shadows flee,
turn, my beloved, be like a gazelle
   or a young stag on the cleft mountains.