Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my lover among the sons. In his shadow I delighted to sit, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, Let its fragrance spread out. Let my lover come into his garden and eat its choicest fruit.
The vine withered, the fig tree wilted. Pomegranate, palm and apple tree —all trees of the field— are withered, for joy has withered away from the children of men.