11. Your lips, my bride, drip like the honeycomb. Honey and milk are under your tongue. The smell of your garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
12. A locked up garden is my sister, my bride; a locked up spring, a sealed fountain.
13. Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits: henna with spikenard plants,
14. spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with every kind of incense tree; myrrh and aloes, with all the best spices,
15. a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, flowing streams from Lebanon.
16. Awake, north wind; and come, you south! Blow on my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and taste his precious fruits.