Ecce, iste venit sáliens in móntibus, transíliens colles; símilis est diléctus meus cápreæ hinnulóque cervórum. En, ipse stat post paríetem nostrum, respíciens per fenéstras, prospíciens per cancéllos. En, diléctus meus lóquitur mihi: Surge, própera, amíca mea, colúmba mea, formósa mea, et veni. Jam enim hiems tránsiit, imber ábiit et recéssit. Flores apparuérunt in terra nostra, tempus putatiónis advénit: vox túrturis audíta est in terra nostra: ficus prótulit grossos suos: víneæ floréntes dedérunt odórem suum. Surge, amíca mea, speciósa mea, et veni: colúmba mea in foramínibus petra, in cavérna macériæ, osténde mihi fáciem tuam, sonet vox tua in áuribus meis: vox enim tua dulcis et fácies tua decóra.
Hark! here He comes springing across the mountains, leaping across the hills. My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Here He stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattices. My lover speaks: He says to me, Arise, make haste, My beloved, My dove, My beautiful one, and come! For see, the winter is past, the rains are over and gone. The flowers appear in our land, the time of pruning has come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines, in bloom, give forth fragrance. Arise, My beloved, My beautiful one, and come! O My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the secret recesses of the cliff, let Me see you, let Me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet and you are lovely.