Song of Solomon 2:8–17

⁸I hear my beloved’s voice. 

Look! Here he comes, 

sprinting over the mountains, 

racing over the hills. 

⁹My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. 

Look! There he stands behind our wall, 

peeking through the window, 

looking through the lattice. 

¹⁰My beloved said to me, 

“Get up, my true love, my beautiful one, and come with me. 

¹¹Look! The winter is past. 

The rain is over and gone. 

¹²Blossoms appear in the land. 

The time of the songbird has arrived. 

The cooing of the mourning dove is heard in our land. 

¹³The green figs ripen. 

The grapevines bloom and give off a fragrance. 

Get up, my true love, my beautiful one, and come with me. 

¹⁴My dove, in the hiding places of the rocky crevices, 

in the secret places of the cliffs, 

let me see your figure and hear your voice. 

Your voice is sweet, and your figure is lovely.” 

¹⁵Catch the foxes for us, 

the little foxes that ruin vineyards. 

Our vineyards are blooming. 

¹⁶My beloved is mine, and I am his. 

He is the one who grazes his flock among the lilies. 

¹⁷When the day brings a cooling breeze and the shadows flee, 

turn around, my beloved. 

Run like a gazelle or a young stag 

on the mountains that separate us!