Song of Songs 2:9-17

9My lover is like a gazelle or a young buck among the stags. Look! He is standing behind our wall— gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice.

10In response my lover said to me: “Get yourself up, my darling, my pretty one, and come, come!

11For behold, the winter has past, the rain is over, it has gone.

12Blossoms appear in the land, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtle-dove is heard in our land.

13The fig tree ripens its early figs. The blossoming vines give off their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling, my pretty one, and come, come!

14My dove, in the clefts of the rock, in a secret place along the steep path, let me see your form, let me hear your voice. For your voice is sweet and your form is lovely.”

15Catch the foxes for us— the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, for our vineyards are in blossom.

16My lover is mine, and I am his! He grazes his flocks among the lilies.

17Until the day cools and the shadows flee away, turn about, my lover, like a gazelle or like a stag upon the mountains of spices.