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12 My sister, my bride, you are like a garden locked up,
    like a walled-in spring, a closed-up fountain.
13 Your limbs are like an orchard
    of pomegranates with all the best fruit,
filled with flowers and nard,
14 nard and saffron, calamus, and cinnamon,
    with trees of incense, myrrh, and aloes—
    all the best spices.
15 You are like a garden fountain—
    a well of fresh water
    flowing down from the mountains of Lebanon.

The Woman Speaks

16 Awake, north wind.
    Come, south wind.
Blow on my garden,
    and let its sweet smells flow out.
Let my lover enter the garden
    and eat its best fruits.

The Man Speaks

I have entered my garden, my sister, my bride.
    I have gathered my myrrh with my spice.
I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey.
    I have drunk my wine and my milk.

The Friends Speak

Eat, friends, and drink;
    yes, drink deeply, lovers.

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