Awake, north wind,
Come, wind of the south!
Breathe over my garden,
To spread its sweet smell.
Let my Beloved come into His garden
Let Him taste its rarest fruits.
Song of Solomon 4:16
Come, wind of the south!
Breathe over my garden,
To spread its sweet smell.
Let my Beloved come into His garden
Let Him taste its rarest fruits.
Song of Solomon 4:16
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