¹² The flowers have appeared in the earth, The time of the singing hath come, And the voice of the turtle was heard in our land,

¹³ The fig-tree hath ripened her green figs, And the sweet-smelling vines have given forth fragrance, Rise, come, my friend, my fair one, yea, come away.

¹⁴ My dove, in clefts of the rock, In a secret place of the ascent, Cause me to see thine appearance, Cause me to hear thy voice, For thy voice [is] sweet, and thy appearance comely.