| 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. Listen! 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 again? I had bathed my feet; how could I soil them? |
| 4 | My beloved thrust his hand into the opening, and my inmost being yearned for him. |
| 5 | I arose to open to my beloved, and my hands dripped with myrrh, my fingers with liquid myrrh, upon 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 did not find him; I called him, but he gave no answer. |
| 7 | Making their rounds in the city the sentinels found me; they beat me, they wounded me, they took away my mantle, those sentinels of the walls. |
| 8 | I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my beloved, tell him this: 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 thus adjure us? |
| 10 | My beloved is all 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 springs of water, bathed in milk, fitly set. |
| 13 | His cheeks are like beds of spices, yielding fragrance. His lips are lilies, distilling liquid myrrh. |
| 14 | His arms are rounded gold, set with jewels. His body is ivory work, encrusted with sapphires. |
| 15 | His legs are alabaster columns, set upon bases of gold. His appearance is like Lebanon, choice as the cedars. |
| 16 | His speech is most sweet, and he is altogether desirable. This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem. |