I charge you Oh Daughters of Jerusalem
By the gazelles or by the does of the field
do not stir up or awaken love until it pleases!
How smooth goes down the wine for my beloved
moving gently his sleeping lips
like a bundle of myrrh between my breasts
is where he lies all night
His left hand is under my head
his right hand embraces me
I charge you, O daughters of Jersusalem
do not awaken love until it pleases!
Come let us go to the vineyard,
and see if the vine has budded
pomegrantes bloomed
So that I can give him my love
among our gates, with pleasant fruits
I have been awakened My Beloved
under the apple tree
My garden is ripe
and the spices flow out
as a fire of flame upon your heart
and with love stronger than death
I am awake my Love
waiting for you to say
"Let me hear it"
And then daughters of Jerusalem
I shall stir and awaken love
For it pleases
upon the Mountains of spices
"Make haste my Beloved, Make haste
like a gazelle or young stag
from the mountain of spices."
