1 I have come into 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, Drink, yes, drink your fill, O lovers!
2 I sleep, but my heart is awake. A voice! My lover is knocking! “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my perfect one! For my head is drenched with dew, my locks with dewdrops of night.”
3 I have stripped off my coat. How can I put it on again? I have washed my feet. How can I soil them?
4 My lover extended his hand through the opening —my heart yearned for him.
5 I rose to open for my lover. My hands dripped with myrrh, yes, my fingers with flowing myrrh, on the handles of the lock.
6 I opened to my lover— but my lover had departed, he was gone! My soul went out to him when he spoke. I searched for him, but did not find him. I called him, but he did not answer me.
7 The guards making rounds in the city found me. They beat me, bruised me. The guards on the walls took my veil from me.