3 I have taken off my robe, should I put it on? I have washed my feet, should I dirty them?
4 My beloved put his hand by the latch, And my feelings were deeply moved for him.
5 I rose to open for my beloved, And my hands dripped with myrrh, My fingers with flowing myrrh, On the handles of the lock.
6 I opened for my beloved, But my beloved had turned away, had gone. My being went out when he spoke. I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
7 The watchmen who went about the city found me. They struck me, they bruised me; The keepers of the walls lifted my veil from me.
8 I have put you under oath, O daughters of Yerushalayim, If you find my beloved, That you inform him that I am faint with love!
9 What kind of a beloved is your beloved, O fairest among women? What kind of a beloved is your beloved, That you have put us under oath?