I am here in my garden, my treasure, my bride! I gather my myrrh with my spices and eat my honeycomb with my honey. I drink my wine with my milk. Oh, lover and beloved, eat and drink! Yes, drink deeply of this love!
One night as I was sleeping, my heart awakened in a dream. I heard the voice of my lover. He was knocking at my bedroom door. `Open to me, my darling, my treasure, my lovely dove, he said, `for I have been out in the night. My head is soaked with dew, my hair with the wetness of the night.
"But I said, `I have taken off my robe. Should I get dressed again? I have washed my feet. Should I get them soiled?'
"My lover tried to unlatch the door, and my heart thrilled within me.
I jumped up to open it. My hands dripped with perfume, my fingers with lovely myrrh, as I pulled back the bolt.
I opened to my lover, but he was gone. I yearned for even his voice! I searched for him, but I couldn't find him anywhere. I called to him, but there was no reply.
The watchmen found me as they were making their rounds; they struck and wounded me. The watchman on the wall tore off my veil.
"Make this promise to me, O women of Jerusalem! If you find my beloved one, tell him that I am sick with love."
O woman of rare beauty, what is it about your loved one that brings you to tell us this?
My lover is dark and dazzling, better than ten thousand others!
His head is the finest gold, and his hair is wavy and black.
His eyes are like doves beside brooks of water; they are set like jewels.
His cheeks are like sweetly scented beds of spices. His lips are like perfumed lilies. His breath is like myrrh.
His arms are like round bars of gold, set with chrysolite. His body is like bright ivory, aglow with sapphires.
His legs are like pillars of marble set in sockets of the finest gold, strong as the cedars of Lebanon. None can rival him.
His mouth is altogether sweet; he is lovely in every way. Such, O women of Jerusalem, is my lover, my friend.