The Lover to His Beloved:
4:12 You are a locked garden, my sister, my bride;
you are an enclosed spring, a sealed-up fountain.
4:13 Your shoots are a royal garden full of pomegranates
with choice fruits:
henna with nard,
4:14 nard and saffron;
calamus and cinnamon with every kind of spice,
myrrh and aloes with all the finest spices.
4:15 You are a garden spring,
a well of fresh water flowing down from Lebanon.
The Beloved to Her Lover:
4:16 Awake, O north wind; come, O south wind!
Blow on my garden so that its fragrant spices may send out their sweet smell.
May my beloved come into his garden
and eat its delightful fruit!
The Lover to His Beloved:
5:1 I have entered my garden, O my sister, my bride;
I have gathered my myrrh with my balsam spice.
I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey;
I have drunk my wine and my milk!
The Poet to the Couple:
Eat, friends, and drink!
Drink freely, O lovers!