[1] I come to my garden, my sister, my bride; I gather my myrrh with my spice; I eat my honeycomb with my honey; I drink 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, and 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 taken off my garment; how could I put it on again? I had bathed my feet; how could I soil them? [4] My beloved put his hand by the latch, and my heart yearned for him. [5] I rose up 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 was 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 the city; they struck me, they wounded me; they took away my mantle, those watchmen of the walls. [8] I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, that you tell him I am faint with love. [9] What is your beloved more than another beloved, O fairest among women? What is your beloved more than another beloved, that you so charge us? [10] My beloved is white 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 rivers of water, bathed in milk, fitly set. [13] His cheeks are like beds of spices, mounds of scented herbs. His lips are lilies, dripping liquid myrrh. [14] His arms are rods of gold, set with jewels. His body is bright ivory, inlaid 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.
