I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or the does of the field, that you not stir up or awaken love until it pleases.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you not stir up or awaken love until it pleases.
And you, O tower of the flock, hill of the daughter of Zion, to you shall it come, the former dominion shall come, kingship for the daughter of Jerusalem.
I am very dark, but lovely, O daughters of Jerusalem, like the tents of Kedar, like the curtains of Solomon.
My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Behold, there he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, looking through the lattice.
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him I am sick with love.
His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me!