L evántate, Aquilón, y ven, Austro; Soplad en mi huerto, despréndanse sus aromas. Venga mi amado a su huerto, Y coma de su dulce fruta.
Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, And eat his precious fruits.
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