11 For lo, 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 turtledove
Is heard in our land.
13 The fig tree puts forth her green figs,
And the vines with the tender grapes
Give a good smell.
Rise up, my love, my fair one,
And come away!

14 “O my (A)dove, in the clefts of the rock,
In the secret places of the cliff,
Let me see your [a]face,
(B)Let me hear your voice;
For your voice is sweet,
And your face is lovely.”

Her Brothers

15 Catch us (C)the foxes,
The little foxes that spoil the vines,
For our vines have tender grapes.

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Footnotes

  1. Song of Solomon 2:14 Lit. appearance

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