[1] I have come to my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk. Eat, O friends, and drink; drink freely, O beloved.
[2] I sleep, but my heart is awake. A sound! My beloved is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one. My head is drenched with dew, my hair with the dampness of the night.”
[3] I have taken off my robe— must I put it back on? I have washed my feet— must I soil them again?
[4] My beloved put his hand to the latch; my heart pounded for him.
[5] I rose up to open for my beloved. My hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with flowing myrrh on the handles of the bolt.
[6] I opened for my beloved, but he had turned and gone. My heart sank at his departure. I sought him, but did not find him. I called, but he did not answer.
[7] I encountered the watchmen on their rounds of the city. They beat me and bruised me; they took away my cloak, those guardians of the walls.
[8] O daughters of Jerusalem, I adjure you, if you find my beloved, tell him I am sick with love.
[9] How is your beloved better than others, O most beautiful among women? How is your beloved better than another, that you charge us so?
[10] My beloved is dazzling and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand.
[11] His head is purest gold; his hair is wavy and black as a raven.
[12] His eyes are like doves beside the streams of water, bathed in milk and mounted like jewels.
[13] His cheeks are like beds of spice, towers of perfume. His lips are like lilies, dripping with flowing myrrh.
[14] His arms are rods of gold set with beryl. His body is an ivory panel bedecked with sapphires.
[15] His legs are pillars of marble set on bases of pure gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, as majestic as the cedars.
[16] His mouth is most sweet; he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.