[1] I came to my garden, my sister, my bride, I gathered my myrrh with my spice, I ate my honeycomb with my honey, I drank my wine with my milk. Eat, friends, drink, and be drunk with love! [2] I slept, but my heart was awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking. "Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one, for my head is wet with dew, my locks with the drops of the night." [3] I had put off my garment; how could I put it on? I had bathed my feet; how could I soil them? [4] My beloved put his hand to the latch, and my heart was thrilled within me. [5] I arose to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, on the handles of the bolt. [6] I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had turned and gone. My soul failed me when he spoke. I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer. [7] The watchmen found me as they went about in the city; they beat me, they bruised me, they took away my veil, those watchmen of the walls. [8] I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him I am sick with love. [9] What is your beloved more than another beloved, O most beautiful among women? What is your beloved more than another beloved, that you thus adjure us? [10] My beloved is radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand. [11] His head is the finest gold; his locks are wavy, black as a raven. [12] His eyes are like doves beside streams of water, bathed in milk, sitting beside a full pool. [13] His cheeks are like beds of spices, mounds of sweet-smelling herbs. His lips are lilies, dripping liquid myrrh. [14] His arms are rods of gold, set with jewels. His body is polished ivory, bedecked with sapphires. [15] His legs are alabaster columns, set on bases of gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as the cedars. [16] His mouth is most sweet, and he is altogether desirable. This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.
