For you were silent, Lo, I was deaf. The winter is past, and cold. The rain is wet and violent, Over many days it came, now And gone.
My beloved spake, a whisper, And said unto me, come near. Rise up, O sleeper, call on me. My love, I gave all for you; My fair one, the apple of my eye, And come away to our secret place.
My beloved is swift and strong, Like a roe or a young hart. Behold, he positions himself nearby, He standeth behind our wall, listening. He looketh forth at the windows, watching. Shewing himself in the desperate moments, Through the lattice of a darkened window.
The voice of my beloved! Behold, I hear him calling. He cometh for me, Leaping as he comes, Upon the mountains, that divide us. Skipping over the breaks, Upon the hills, looking for his sheep.