1 I have entered my garden, my sister, my bride; I have plucked my myrrh along with my spice, I have eaten my honeycomb along with my honey, I have drunk my wine along with my milk. Eat, friends, and drink; drink your fill, dear ones.
2 I slept, but my heart was wakeful. Hark! My beloved is knocking: "Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my perfect one, for my head is wet with dew, my hair with the drops of the night."
3 I have put off my tunic; must I put it on again? I have bathed my feet; must I dirty them?
4 My beloved thrust his hand through the latch opening, and my heart stirred within me for him.
5 I got up to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped myrrh, my fingers liquid myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
6 I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had turned and gone on. My soul failed me when he spoke. I looked for him but could not find him; I called him, but he gave no answer.
7 The watchmen making their rounds in the city came upon me; they beat me and bruised me; the guards of the walls stripped my cloak from me.
8 I make you swear, daughters of Jerusalem: if you find my beloved, what will you say to him? That I am sick with love.
9 How is your beloved better than any other, fairest of women? How is your beloved better than any other, that you make us swear so?
10 My beloved is radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand.
11 His head is purest gold; his locks are clustered like palm fronds, black as the raven.
12 His eyes are like doves by the water brooks, washed in milk, sitting by brimming pools.
13 His cheeks are like beds of spice, mounds of sweet herbs; his lips are lilies that drip liquid myrrh.
14 His arms are golden rods inlaid with beryl; his body is polished ivory overlaid with sapphires.
15 His legs are columns of alabaster, set on pedestals of pure gold. His bearing is like Lebanon, choice as its cedars.
16 His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. This is my beloved, and this is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem.