How beautiful is your love, my sister, my
bride! How much sweeter is your love than wine, And the fragrance of your oils Than that of
all kinds of
Your lips drip honey, my
bride; Honey and milk are under your tongue, And the fragrance of your garments is like the fragrance of Lebanon.
A locked garden is my sister, my
bride, A locked spring, a sealed fountain.
Your branches are an orchard of pomegranates With delicious fruits, henna with nard plants,
Nard and saffron, spice reed and cinnamon, With all the trees of frankincense, Myrrh, and aloes, along with all the finest balsam oils.
a garden spring, A well of fresh water, And flowing streams
'Awake, north wind,
And come, wind of
the south; Make my garden breathe out fragrance,
May its balsam oils flow. May my beloved come into his garden And eat its delicious fruits!'