The Bride Adores Her Beloved

The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, leaping over the mountains, bounding over the hills.

The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the crannies of the cliff, let me see your face, let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.

He

O you who dwell in the gardens, with companions listening for your voice; let me hear it.