hear my love racing over the hills
Mylove is like a young stag
There he stands beside the window
And glances through the lattice then he said to me.
Come mylove, my dearie, cone with me
The winter is over: the rain stops
In the country side the flowers are in bloom
This is time for singing, the songs of doves is heard in the fields
Fruits are beginning to ripen: the air is fragrant with blossoming vines
Come then my dearie, mylove, come with me.
You are like a dove that hides in the crevice of a rock
Lemme see your lovely face and hear your enchanting voice,
you have stayed away from me for too long
Catch the little foxes before they ruin our vineyard in bloom.
You are mine my dearie until the morning breezes blow,
and darkness disappears
Return my dearie, like a gazelle,
like a stag on the mountains and sleep on my bed.
Pictures from pixabay