I have put you under oath, O daughters of Yerushalayim, By the gazelles or by the does of the field, Do not stir up nor awaken love until it pleases.
I am dark, but lovely, O daughters of Yerushalayim, Like the tents of Qĕḏar, Like the curtains of Shelomoh.
His left hand is under my head, And his right hand embraces me.
My beloved is like a gazelle or like a young stag. See, he is standing behind our wall, Looking through the windows, Peering through the lattice.
I have put you under oath, O daughters of Yerushalayim, If you find my beloved, That you inform him that I am faint with love!
I have put you under oath, O daughters of Yerushalayim, Do not stir up or awake love until it pleases.
“And you, O tower of the flock, stronghold of the daughter of Tsiyon, it shall come to you, the former rule shall come, the reign of the daughter of Yerushalayim.”