¹² Blossoms appear through all the land.
    The time has come to sing;
    the cooing of doves is heard in our land.
¹³ There are young figs on the fig trees,
    and the blossoms on the vines smell sweet.
Get up, my darling;
    let’s go away, my beautiful one.”

¹⁴ My beloved is like a dove hiding in the cracks of the rock,
    in the secret places of the cliff.
Show me your face,
    and let me hear your voice.
Your voice is sweet,
    and your face is lovely.